#|| this came out way longer than anticipated

[simp-for-love]

Addiction

Mattheo Riddle x femReader

Mattheo Riddle has always prided himself on control. From quitting cigarettes for months to cutting out alcohol, he's mastered every addiction, every craving — except one.

Warnings: light angst with happy ending, themes of control and self-restraint, mentions of smoking, alcohol, fighting, and weed, kinda grumpy x sunshine vibes.

Mattheo Riddle was a man of control.

He quit smoking for three months once — just to prove that he could. The craving gnawed at him, made him irritable, but he endured. He gave up alcohol for a month, letting the parties pass him by without so much as a sip, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a glass. Sex? A month. He decided it would affect his health if he deprived himself longer. He quit weed for four months, but that was the easiest one — he only smoked when he needed to let go and relax. He hadn’t fought a single person for a month because he had a bet with Enzo. Easy galleons. And the fact that he’d beaten all those twits later — no one cared. The bet had been won. Sugar? Gone for two months. It had been hell, but he was stubborn, and stubborn men didn’t break over something as trivial as a craving.

He liked testing himself, setting limits just to push against them. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t like the people who let their habits control them.

He made and unmade habits like it was nothing, testing himself constantly, pushing his own limits just to see how far he could go.

He knew how to cut things out of his life.

When his father taught him that emotions made you vulnerable and weak, he learned to shut them down. When he realized that people only stayed when it benefited them, he made sure never to need anyone. He conditioned himself to be unaffected — to not care, to not crave, to not need.

But even the strongest man has a weakness.

And Mattheo Riddle’s was you.

He could go months without a cigarette, weeks without firewhiskey, days without sleep — and then there was you.

You were the one thing Mattheo couldn’t control. The one thing he just couldn’t walk away from.

He tried, of course. At first, it seemed simple. He could treat you like he treated everyone else besides his friends — detached, aloof, unaffected. But you didn't seem to notice, waving at him friendly, approaching him, asking about his day. And the more time he spent with you, the more his control slipped.

When you laughed, it rattled something deep inside him, something he hadn’t even known was there. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread through him, the way his chest felt light whenever you spoke his name cheerfully. And when you smiled, the kind of smile that made your eyes shine, he found himself smiling back more and more often, even though every part of him screamed that he shouldn’t. His body tingled with anticipation of your ephemeral and natural touch. It didn’t matter if it was a casual nudge, a brush of fingers while passing a book, or a friendly pat on his shoulder. He realized how touch-starved he was, despite being intimate with more than one girl in a week.

Every time he caught himself staring at you, caught himself thinking of you — he’d convince himself it was nothing. A fleeting thought. But when his mind wandered, it always wandered back to you.

And it terrified him. Because, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t control it. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

But then came the first time he saw you smiling at someone else, and something inside him cracked.

It was an innocent thing — just you laughing with your friends across the room — but it hit him like a punch to the chest. His hands clenched into fists, his breath coming faster than he’d like to admit, and for a moment, he almost wanted to walk over there and claim your attention like a needy kid wanting his parents to notice him.

The night after that he didn't sleep much, spending his time thinking and reflecting his behavior and stirring emotions. But then the next morning, you came to him with an adorable furrow on your face and a worried look in your eyes, reaching out to place a hand on his forehead and asking about his well-being.

And he gave in.

If he’d lost this battle against addiction, he might as well make the most of it, he thought.

Mattheo started approaching you first, walking you to your classes. He would throw a witty joke or charming wink while passing by with his friends. He started sharing his thoughts about things and concepts, studying with you in the library on quiet evenings. The smile on his face appeared more often, making your own widen even so slightly. He started to let you in, allowing to take a peek inside his carefully constructed walls.

And he hadn’t regretted it since then, not even once.

"Matt, are you overthinking again?" you asked, running your fingers through his curls in a soothing motion.

He shifted his head on your stomach slightly to look up at you, snapping out of his thoughts. The lazy, warm smile tugged at his lips almost out of habit at the sight of you — so relaxed and soft, lying on his bed. With him. Merlin, he was the luckiest man out there.

He leaned into your hand in his hair, silently asking you not to stop. "Nah, just thinking about how much I adore my girl," he said with a small, cheeky smile, looking up at you.

His words made you chuckle softly, and that widened the smile on his lips, showing the dimple on his left cheek. He loved your laugh, and he loved it even more when he was the reason for it.

Mattheo buried his face into your stomach, inhaling your scent deeply, sinking into your warmth. An involuntary sigh of content escaped his lips.

Control was a comforting illusion, something he had clung to his entire life. But this — this chaotic, terrifying, wonderful thing he had with you — was the one addiction he never wanted to give up.

And, for once, he was perfectly fine with that.

[lesservillain]

strange lights masterlist

summary: the truth is finally revealed

cw: none

wc: 6.3k

The clock ticked slowly throughout your whole shift. The dreaded anticipation of the events that would unfold later today haunted you throughout the night and seeped into your morning, only growing as the hours went by. Was it the thought of being alone with Eddie for the first time since your last encounter that was giving you butterflies, or was it the secret you were sure you had discovered about him that was making your stomach churn. Either way, you couldn’t wait for 4 pm to roll around.

“You doing okay, kiddo?” Bob asks as he punches some numbers into the register next to you.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, coming back to earth.

“You’ve been staring at the clock all day. If you wanted the day off you could’ve asked me. I think I would have been okay by myself.”

“No, no,” you say, waving your hands defensively, “I just have plans for after work is all.”

“Ah, yeah, I remember when I used to have plans for a Friday night with the boys.” Bob has a distant look in his eyes when he speaks. It surprises you someone so down to Earth as Bob used to have wild nights out with his friends in his hay day. “Just stay safe out there. Even if it was an animal that killed those hikers, doesn’t mean that there isn’t scary people in this town.”

“Don’t I know it.” You swallow the lump in your throat thinking about everything that you’ve figured out about Eddie. The fact that he texted you just when you were sure you’d uncovered the truth still unnerved you if you thought about it for too long. And the fact that he never responded when you asked him how he got your number didn’t settle well with you either.

“Well, there is only five minutes left in your shift, why don’t you go ahead and go. I think I can handle it until Eden gets here.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting to seem desperate to leave your shift.

“Yeah, you’re a hard worker. Would rather let you go a few minutes early than make you suffer any longer.”

“Thanks Bob,” you say, pushing away from the counter and running off to the break room to clock out. You wondered if Eddie was already there waiting for you or if you’d have to wait awkwardly outside for him. 

As you walked out the front doors, you looked around to see if you could find his car. But it dawned on you that you had no idea what he drove, so you just stood there for a moment contemplating what to do. Maybe if you texted him--

Suddenly, a large van came barrelling from around the parking lot. It was an old beater van, with loud music playing from it that you couldn’t quite recognize. You watched as it pulled up to the walkway, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. The driver leaned over, rolling down the window until you could clearly see them.

“Hop in,” Eddie said as he turned his music down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. You examined him carefully as you approached the vehicle. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke billowing out of the driver side window and into the air above. His other hand was on the steering wheel, knuckles almost white as he gripped it. Was he feeling as anxious as you were about this whole thing? 

You opened the van door and stepped into the passenger seat, putting on your seat belt. Just as soon as he heard the click, Eddie was taking off. The speed at which he was driving seemed reckless for a parking lot, and only got worse when he got to the road. Your nerves were through the roof as he wordlessly bobbed and weaved through the steady Hawkins traffic.

“You don’t have to go so fast, I’m not going anywhere,” you said when you could finally muster up the courage to speak. Eddie looked at you with wide eyes before easing back in his seat.

“Oh, sorry. Bad habit,” he says as the van starts to slow down to a more reasonable speed. His grip on the wheel lets up a bit, watching him as he puts his cigarette butt out in a little ashtray he has in his cup holder. There was barely room for the butt because it was filled to the brim, in desperate need to be cleaned out.

Even with the slight shift, Eddie still seemed tense. You wanted to say something to him, but the words in your brain weren’t forming in your mouth for some reason. So you just watched as he continued to drive, going all the way through town until you started to see trees. The way the woods began to thicken gave you a wave of nausea, realizing he was taking you somewhere isolated. Was this it? Is this how you die?

“W-where are we going?” Your voice barely a squeak as you finally speak. Eddie’s eyes dart over to you for a moment and he begins chewing on his fingernail nervously.

“Just to a spot where we can talk in private.” You didn’t like the unsure tone of his voice as he talked.

“Why does it need to be in private?”

You didn’t get an answer, Eddie just simply kept driving until you reached your destination. 

He pulled into a small lot off the side of the road and parked. You watched as he undid his seat belt and opened the driver side door. You followed suit, undoing your own seat belt and going to open your door, but it was already opening. You flinched as Eddie appeared by your side, fearing the worst. But he just stood there, his hand outstretched as if offering it for you to take. He had an unreadable look on his face that make you a little unnerved, but you took his hand regardless and let him guide you out of the van and onto the dirt floor.

“Follow me,” he said, dropping his hand from yours and starting off towards the woods. He wasn’t bringing anything with him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t already have something waiting out in the secluded woods. Your instincts were telling you not to follow this man, that even if he wasn’t the monster you thought he was, that he was still fully capable of overpowering you and killing you out here. You thought about how sad your father would be to get the call that his baby girl had been brutally slaughtered only a few months after moving back in with him. 

“Are you coming?” Eddie says, popping back into your vision as his hand waved in front of your face and pulls you from your thoughts.

“I don’t know, Eddie…”

Eddie chuckles. “Smart girl,” he says taking a step back. “If you’re worried about me killing you, just know that I wouldn’t be waiting around for you if I was. There’s no one else out here, so I wouldn’t have to worry about your screams.”

“Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better.” You say with a laugh. But you have to admit his words did make you feel a little at ease with yourself. 

“Just stay close behind me,” Eddie says, waving you to follow him. “This is a lesser known path, so watch your step.”

“Do you come out here often?” You ask as you follow him into the thicket.

“I do, yeah,” he says as he steps around the debris with ease. His steps are airy, like he has the path memorized. “It’s peaceful out here. Far away from civilization.”

“Do you come alone?” You ask curiously. You take a step and suddenly you’re tripping on a rogue root coming from the ground. Eddie turns quickly, just as fast as he had that day when the car came hurtling towards you. But all he does is catch you from your fall, ice cold hands against your skin as his hands grasp your arms. The action instantly reminds you of everything you looked up last night. Of the looming questions you needed answers to. 

“H-how much further?” You say as you straighten up, his icy touch leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

Eddie clears his throat. “Just a little more. There’s a clearing just up ahead.” With that, he turns back around and continues on, moving more quickly this time. Just like the last time you followed him in the woods, you felt like you were struggling to keep up, but did your best to keep his pace, Eddie looking back at you every once in a while to make sure you were still there.

Just when you were about to ask him if he was lost, he suddenly pushed through some brush that led you to a clearing. As you examined it, you became breathless at the beauty before you. It was filled with flowers and tall grass, and you could only think that it would be more captivating if the sun had been able to peak through the clouds and shine down on it.

“Wow,” you say, moving to stand next to Eddie.

“I know right? Told you it was a good spot.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

The two of you stood there in silence, taking in the view. The urge to reach your hand to his was there, but you refrained, reminding yourself why you were there in the first place.

“So, Eddie…” You don’t look at him as you speak, the situation becoming too real as the boiling point begins to tip over.

“You want to know why I brought you here?” You nod and Eddie sighs, taking a few steps into the field before turning to face you. It was too much to look at him right now, so you kept your vision to the ground and waited for him to speak again.

“I guess I’ll just come out and say it. I heard you’ve been asking around about me and I need to know why. What about me has you so interested in what I do in my spare time that you ask my family and friends about me?”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting.

“I’m sorry, is it a crime to ask about someone who has kissed you not once, but twice now?”

Eddie shifts where he stands, clearly uncomfortable with being called out. “I know and I shouldn’t have done that, because that clearly bothers you to the point in tying to dig into my personal life. So for that, I apologize.” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re saying sorry for kissing me? Eddie, I’m not upset that you kissed me. If I’m being honest…I really liked it. That’s why I’ve been asking about you. I just want to get to know you better.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’m not the type of person you want to be involved with. And I shouldn’t have led you on by allowing myself to indulge in you twice. But I…” His words trail off, and there’s a mix of pain and uncertainty written all over his face. He looks at you, eyes darting between yours as if he’s trying to find some answer in them that isn’t there.

“That’s not fair.” You take a step towards him. “It may not be my business, but you shouldn’t let other people’s words keep you from enjoying other people’s company.”

“No, it doesn’t have to do with any of the small minded people in this town. I just…I can’t get close to you. I shouldn’t even be friends with you.”

“But why?” You plead.

“I just can’t,” he turns away from you, back facing you as he stares out into the field. You think for a moment, and decide you need to cross the line.

“It’s…it’s because of what you are, isn’t it?” 

Eddie stiffens where he stands, fists opening and closing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His words come out as cold as his icy skin.

“I-I think you do know.” You take another step towards him. “I think…I think I know, too.”

“I’d love to hear it then,” he says, temptation in his words.

You take a deep breath in, trying to find the courage to say the words out loud. If you were wrong, you’d sound like a total idiot. But you were sure there was something up with him. It was the only way to explain all the strange interactions between the two of you unless you were going crazy. Which, at this point, you might just be.

“Your…your skin's pale as snow and cold as ice,” you start, eyes boring into his back as you speak. “You move incredibly fast. You have some kind of super strength that I can’t explain. Your eyes…they change color. You don’t eat anything, and I’ve only ever seen you order a black coffee that I don’t even know if you drank. And you dress and act like you’re…stuck in the past.” You trail off, recounting all the things you’ve seen and heard about him. Eddie doesn’t respond, standing still as stone as if he was a statue in front of you. After a moment, you speak again, “Eddie…how old are you?”

He doesn’t say anything at first. After a beat, he finally speaks up.

“Twenty.”

“And…how long have you been twenty.”

Another pause.

“A while.”

You gasp. Eddie finally turns around and faces you, a look of anger on his face. But you don’t falter, standing your ground.

“I know what you are.”

“If you know, then why don’t you say it,” he spits, venom in his tone. You look down again, and you feel your breath starting to quicken. This is it.

“Vampire.”

The air suddenly shifts, all your danger senses starting to go off as the way Eddie looks at you shifts.

Then, he laughs.

“Eddie, I’m serious,” you say, getting frustrated at his change in mood.

“You’ve been hanging around Heather too much.” He says, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

“No, I figured this out on my own,” you say firmly, “I’m not letting you try and gaslight me again.”

Not a second later, Eddie was directly in front of you. It scared you, making you gasp.

“Alright, if you’re so sure then…Tell me, what do vampires eat.”

Nervous heat washed all over you, causing little beads of sweat to bubble at your hairline. “You-you won’t hurt me.” Eddie chuckles, giving you a smirk.

“So sure are you?” He steps closer until the two of you are touching, chest to chest.

“Yes.”

“Are you afraid?”

Are you afraid? 

“No.” You say plainly, looking up at him. Eddie looks down at you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. You lean into him, letting your eyes close as you anticipate him kissing you. You feel him lean in, his breath is hot on your lips. But, they never meet. You feel his hand on your arm again and your eyes snap open as he begins to drag you through the woods.

“Where are we going?” You stutter out, barely able to keep up with him.

“You have to see me…you have to see me in the sunlight,” is all he says before stopping abruptly. He pulls you onto his back, carrying you as if you were feather light, and takes off. The speed at which he is moving is inhuman, impossibly fast as he bobs and weaves through the woods with an unnatural precision. You barely have time to process everything that’s happening as the world seems to be passing you in a blur. Eddie effortlessly climbed and scales rocks and trees as you climb higher up into the mountains.

Once he finally stops, you can see that you’re on the edge of the cloud bank, a ray of sunshine showing through and illuminating the surrounding area. Eddie sets you down, leaving you standing there as he walks closer to the light. You start to panic, seeing him getting closer to the exposed sun, thinking that he’s going to kill himself in front of you. “Eddie don’t!” You shout, but he’s already stepping into the light. You prepare yourself to see him go up in flames under the light…but he doesn’t.

It’s like…millions of tiny diamonds were set in his skin. The light reflecting off of them and shining brightly, creating a harsh visual for you. You moved your hand in front of your eyes, trying your best to maintain your eye contact on him, but failing.

“This is me,” he says, throwing his arms up dramatically.

“It’s…it’s beautiful,” you say, mesmerized by the sight.

“Beautiful? You think this is beautiful. It’s a curse. It’s…the skin of killer.” Suddenly Eddie is gone from your vision, reappearing next to you in a flash. “I’m a killer.”

“Eddie--”

“I’ve killed before.” Eddie circles around you as he talks, moving so quickly you can barely keep track of him. “I wanted to kill you that night out by Skull Rock. When I tasted your blood on my tongue. I’ve never wanted a humans blood more in my life.” Eddie’s words hit you like bricks, making you reel back at his confessions. Then he’s gone again, up above you on the rocks edge. But just as soon as he was there, he shifted to the other side of you. He grabs a heavy root sticking out of the ground and yanks on it, pulling the whole tree from the ground and throwing it over the mountainside. 

“Eddie, please calm down!” You shout, trying to reason with him.

“Calm down? How can I calm down?” He was in front of you again. “I don’t know what to do here! I’m exposing myself to you, a human, and all for what? So you can go back into town and tell everyone what I am? You think they’ll believe you? Heather and Barb? Your dad? Nothing you tell them wont make you sound crazy.”

You bring your hands to the sides of his face, feeling the cold under your touch. You were surprised you were even able to catch him with how sporadic he was moving, but he seemed to calm down in your grasp.

“Hey, listen to me,” you say calmly, looking him in the eyes. “I’m not going to tell anybody. It’s clearly something that you don’t want others to know, and it’s not my business to tell. I promise you I won’t say a word. Okay?” Eddie’s eyes meet yours and you can feel him trying to read you to see if you’re telling the truth. He grabs your hands and pushes them off of his face, letting out a frustrated groan as he does.

“I can’t…I don’t know if I can trust you. I can’t read your mind.”

“Well, yeah, no one can read minds,” you say with a shrug.

“I can!” He shouts, punching into the side of the mountain hard enough that it cracks. “I can read minds! All of them! I hear everyone’s stupid thoughts all day long! All the vile and disgusting things people think to themselves, I can hear it! But you…” He points a finger at you, shaking it out of anger. “I can’t read your mind. It’s like radio silence. It’s the scariest…and most comforting thing to experience for me. To be in another persons presence without hearing what they think of you. But the thing with you is…” He rushes towards you, his hands wrapping around your skull as he leaned in close. “I want to know. I want to hear what you’re thinking about me. It kills me.”

“Then just ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I’m not an enemy here.”

Eddie pauses before speaking again. “Are you really not scared? After everything I’ve said and done, are you not completely terrified by me?”

You shake your head in his grasp, “No. All I see is someone who is scared themself. Someone who has never had the chance to put himself out there to someone else before. Someone in desperate need to be their true self for once in their life.”

Your words strike a chord with Eddie, and the smiles. A genuine smile. His hands shift either side of your face and he leans down into you, pressing a kiss against your lips. It’s cold like the first bite of a popsicle, but gradually gets warmer. You kiss him back, bold enough to let your tongue swipe against his top lip. He graciously obliges, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue into yours. A heat blooms in you and as the kiss turns into something more passionate.

Eddie finally pulls away, his eyes shining as they look into yours. You smile at him, too giddy to speak. “I have a bad feeling about you,” he says and that makes you laugh.

“Bad in a good way?” You ask. 

He nods, giving you a smile. “Like you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Aren’t you technically already dead?” Eddie huffs out a laugh at that, straightening up as he does.

“I guess that’s true. But I meant more of a metaphorical thing. Like you’re going to be the end of an era for me.”

“What kind of era? A sad and lonely one?”

“Mhmm.”

The two of you laid in that field for what felt like hours just talking about each other. You learned that Eddie was in fact turned in the 80’s by a vampire at a metal concert. He was taken in by Dr. Brenner after he found him feral and feeding off of a homeless person in the middle of the street. Eddie told you that when you turn, you stay feral for a while before you come back to your senses.

“I was out for months. Martin had me tied up in his basement the whole time, bringing me bags of blood to feed on from the hospital he worked at. I don’t remember anything. I just know I woke up confused and covered in blood…”

“That must have been terrifying,” you say, brows furrowed with concern.

“Yeah, that’s putting it lightly. I didn’t know what had happened to me. The last thing I remembered was that other vampire biting me and passing out.”

“Was it painful?”

Eddie nods, spinning a ring on his finger as he speaks. “It felt like I’d been poisoned or something. Like by body was shutting down. Most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder. Eddie rests his head on top of yours.

“S’alright. Nothing can be done about it now. I try and look on the bright side about it when I’m feeling down.”

“What about the others? Or is that too personal?” You ask.

“Eh, I mean, it’s kinda complicated. Nancy, Robin, and Mike were all attacked in the same night when a vampire broke into their house. They were rushed to the hospital Martin was working at and he knew what happened to them, so he turned them, too. El, on the other hand…” Eddie’s words trailed off and you looked up at him expectantly. “She’s a whole different story. She’s an original.”

“An original? What does that mean?”

“El is short for Eleven. She was the eleventh child that Martin changed.”

“Like, on purpose?” You ask. Eddie nods.

“Martin…he had adopted a boy, like, a long time ago. He was really sick, and Martin did everything he could to make him better. He was doing some alchemy type shit and, wouldn’t you know it, created something that worked. But…it changed the boy. He seemed to slowly get better, but one day he attacked Martin and turned him.”

“Wait, Dr. Brenner made the original vampire?”

“Mhmm,” Eddie says with a nod. “But when Martin was changed didn’t have the same feral effect like everyone else does. He also doesn’t get affected by human blood like the rest of us do. He kept the boy satiated by bringing him livestock from a local farm. The boy eventually got better, went back to "normal", and Martin did tests on him and found that he had been cured of all his afflictions. So, Martin considered it a success.”

Your jaw had to have been on the floor hearing all of this. The same man who treated your wounds at the hospital made the original vampire? What a small world. “So he kept making more vampires?”

“He didn’t know what he was making. Thought it was just a cure with some rough side effects. He adopted more kids and turned them without knowing. Not all of them made it past their feral stage. But, El did, and he decided to keep her under his wing this whole time. She’s hundreds of years old, but she’s only aged, like, ten years or something in her whole span of being a vampire.”

“Wait, she’s aged? I thought vampires stayed the same age forever?”

Eddie shook his head. “No vampires still age. We’re still somewhat human. Just different in some ways.”

“Woah, have you aged any?” You ask, looking him over. He still looked fairly close to twenty if you were to guess his age.

“I don’t think so. I’ve only been a vampire for, what, almost 50 years. I think it takes a while to start actually showing aging. That boy that Martin turned first, it’s been such a long time since that happened, but he only looks like he’s maybe in his late thirties.”

“He’s still alive?” You gasp.

“Oh, he’s still alive alright. He’s like the head vampire. Calls all the shots.”

“Oh my god, is there a little vampire mafia?” Eddie laughs at your question, shaking his head.

“It’s not a mafia. But there are certain rules that vampires have to follow or else they face punishments.”

“This is so crazy,” you say, turning over on your side to face him. Eddie follows your lead, propping his head up on his hand. 

“There’s a lot that you humans don’t know about. It’s honestly for the better. Some vampires slip up and humans find out, but most people just call them crazy and move on nowadays. It used to be an instant death sentence to find out about a vampire.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel very good,” you say, a little anxiety building up in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says, bringing an icy hand to your cheek, “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words made your heart flutter in your chest. You take his hand and bring it to your lips, kissing his knuckles. Eddie smiles, watching you with lidded eyes.

“What stuff do vampires do that’s different from humans?” You ask, admiring the rings on his fingers.

“Well, one thing we don’t do is sleep. I try and zone out to get close, but it doesn’t always work. I really miss sleeping.”

“That would be awful. I love sleeping.”

Eddie laughs, “Don’t become a vampire then.” 

You look at him through squinted eyes. “We’ll see,” you say teasingly. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at you before shifting to sit up. He looks at his watch and his eyes bug out of his head. “Holy shit, it’s already almost eight. Hope your dad wasn’t expecting you to come home right after work.” 

You sit up instantly and pull out your phone but there was no reception. Thankfully you told your dad you were coming home later, but you weren’t expecting to be out until dark. “We should probably get going.” Eddie nods and you follow him back to his van. He opens the door for you and closes it for you once you get in. He rounds the front with a lightening speed before hopping in and starting the van up. It takes a couple tries to start, but you exhale when it finally starts.

“Sorry, she’s as old as I am,” Eddie says, smacking the dash lovingly.

“How long have you had this thing?” You ask as he backs out onto the street.

“Longer than you’ve been alive,” he says with a smile. You roll your eyes and watch the street as he drives.

“Why don’t you get a new car? One to keep up with the times?”

“I’m pretty stuck in my ways.”

“Dustin said you’re terrible with technology, too” you say teasingly.

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m getting any younger. I do my best thought. Texted you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, that’s true. It makes sense why it took you forever to respond, though.”

“It’s not because I’m technologically disadvantaged that it took me forever. I was just…nervous.” He says the last part quietly. You watch as his fingers pick at a loose thread in the steering wheel.

“Why were you nervous?” You ask him.

“Because…I thought I was going to come out here to tell you to stay the hell away from me, when I want the exact opposite. I can’t explain it, but you’re on my mind all the time. Being around you is like being around a drug I can’t have.”

“Who said you can’t have it?”

Eddie looks at you, eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

You make an ‘x’ over your heart with your finger. “Never.” Eddie chuckles deeply, finally looking back at the road. 

The two of you listen to the hum of the radio until you start seeing streetlights again. Then, suddenly, your phone started going off in your pocket. You pulled it out to see notification after notification roll in once you reached civilization again. “Shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, eyebrows shooting into his bangs.

“I forgot I--” You forgot about your plans with Steve. But did you want to tell Eddie that? “I forgot I had other plans tonight. I need to make a phone call.” Eddie nods and motions zipping his mouth shut. You smile and press the call button on your phone.

“Hello?” You hear Steve’s voice say, a hint of panic in his tone.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I haven’t responded to your texts.” You say, thinking quickly about your excuse.

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, I just…I just had a really bad migraine at work and…and when I came home I laid down and passed out. Totally didn’t hear my phone go off.”

“No, no, it’s okay I understand,” he says with a hint of relief in his tone. “I’m glad you got a hold of me I was just about to leave to check on you.”

“No! Don’t leave. I’m-I’m still not feeling well. Can I get a rain check?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m sorry you don’t feel good. You sure you don’t want me to bring you anything?” Steve asks, sounding a little dejected.

“Um…no I think I have everything here. Thank you though,” you say, feeling bad for letting him down.

“No problem. I guess I’ll let you go. Just text me later, okay?”

“I will, I promise. Bye…”

“Bye.”

You hit the end call button and shove your phone back into your pocket.

“You’re a pretty good liar,” Eddie says after a beat.

“Thanks. I just felt bad. When you texted me, I just completely forgot that I made a promise to go out tonight.”

“You still could have gone,” he says with a shrug. “I’m sure whoever it was wouldn’t have minded from the sound of it.”

You look him over, his shoulders relaxed and his hands tapping away to the low beat of the music playing. The beams from the vans headlights illuminate his features, his brown eyes reflecting the light off of them. His strong jaw and his nose highlighted against the darkening sky out of his driver side window. You had to admit he had a beautiful profile. 

“I think he’ll be okay,” you say, finally looking away from him.

“He?” Eddie asks with an unreadable look on his face. “Did you have a date?”

“Maybe I did,” you say with a sly smile.

“Awe, you ditched your date for me? How sweet of you. I’m flattered.” Eddie raises his hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion. You laugh at his antics, turning to look at him.

“Well, now that I don’t have any plans, you could always come to my place and we can talk more. I still have so many questions for you.”

Eddie’s hands wring the steering wheel and his shoulders tighten. He’s quiet for a moment as he contemplates your offer.

“I don’t know about tonight. I think I’ve taken enough of your time for the day.”

“Awe, boo,” you say with a thumbs down for extra effect. “It’s not like you have a bedtime or anything.”

“But you do,” he says looking over at you.

“True, but I’m off tomorrow and I don’t think my dad would care if I slept in.”

“Nah, I can’t be keepin’ you up all night already. Maybe some other time.”

Your stomach flips at his words. A promise that you’d see each other again and possibly spend the whole night together. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” Eddie says.

“How did you get my number?”

Eddie visibly recoils at your question. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“C’mon, I’m not gonna be mad,” you say, pushing his arm.

“Are you sure?”

“Did you ask Eden?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No way. She would never give me your number.”

“Okaaaaayyy? My dad?”

“Nope. I had Martin get it for me.”

You shake your head in surprise. “How the hell did he get my number?”

“He looked back at your file from when you came to the hospital. I’m just glad you put your number and not, like, your dad’s or something.”

“Oh my god, you had Martin violate HIPPA to get my number?” You ask with a wide grin.

“He almost didn’t do it. But I didn’t know how else to get it. Thought about sending the kids to get it but I thought it would be too obvious.”

“You could have just come and talked to me.”

Eddie sighs, “I told you, I didn’t know things were going to turn out this way. For a vampire, I’m a bit of a chicken shit.”

“Could’a fooled me. You had me a little worried back there.”

Eddie cringes, eyes kept on the road as he pulls into the parking lot for the bookstore. He drives up to your car and pulls into a near by spot, throwing the van in park. “Sorry about that,” he finally says, eyes downcast to his lap.

“Don’t be sorry. It was honestly kind of sexy in retrospect,” you say, leaning into the center console to trace a finger along his arm.

“Don’t say that!” He says, bringing his hands to his face in embarrassment. You laugh, leaning away from him until your back is against the van door. Eddie turns his head, his hands still over his face as he parts his fingers to see you smiling at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my place?” You ask him, eyebrows wiggling to punctuate your insinuation.

“As much as I would love to…I really can’t tonight. Gotta go home and break the news about your little discovery to my family. That’s about all I’m going to be able to handle tonight.”

You pout your lip at him, giving a dissatisfied hum for good measure. Eddie’s hand juts out so quickly you barely see it as he takes your lip between his finger and thumb. “Put that away, it’s not going to work on me tonight.”

“Fine,” you say with an over exaggerated huff. “But, promise me that you’re not going to disappear on me.” Your tone is much more serious, and you stare him down. “I don’t know what,” you gesture between the two of you, “this means between us. But…I definitely want to see you again.”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing me,” he says with a smile, “Gotta keep my eyes on you so you don’t tell my little secret.”

“That’s not what I meant…” You say softly, looking at him through your lashes. Eddie swallows, shifting slightly in his seat so he’s facing you more. “I mean, I want to see you. Maybe for dinner some time…”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

You sit up in your seat and nod. “Yep, off the whole day.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, leaning in to take your hand in his. “Do you want to go with me the Benny’s?”

“You want to go to a restaurant?” You ask, a little surprised at his suggestion.

“Yeah, you still need to eat. I can technically still eat food, it just doesn’t do anything for me. Kinda tastes bleh.”

“We could always go to a movie or something instead. And I’ll be able to eat all the popcorn to myself.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head at your words. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see what’s playing around 7 if that’s okay?”

“Sure, whatever you want to watch,” you say, jitters flowing through your body.

“Sounds like a date. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to your place.”

“Do you know where I live?” You ask, prepared to give him your address.

“Yeah, I know,” is all Eddie says.

“Oh, right, Brenner.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

thank you for reading!

[moeitsu]

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 9 - The Point Of No Return Summary: You choose to spend the night with Arthur, seeking warmth and solace in each other's arms as the storm rages outside. But as the night deepens, so does the pull between you, an unstoppable tide of desire that neither of you can no longer resist. wc: 19.7k (good god) tw: NSFW 18+, minors DNI. More under the cut. There is so many, its diabolical. Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: Surprise, I said I would post this tomorrow but I actually finished it early! Oh boy, here we go. I am so out of touch with reality, touching grass is not nearly enough. Cheers!

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @ilovethatforyousworld @gatodebiquini @onyxlune @misosoup1001 @sarah-heyes @kindadolly @atticssmellgood @bomdada

tw: pwp. monster genitalia. two cocks. oral!both recieving. p in v, no protection. breeding kink. creampies. anal. double penetration. overstimulation. biting. primal mating instincts. dirty talk. slight pain kink. That about covers it!

I was done fighting this—done pretending my body didn’t crave him, that my soul wasn’t drawn to his like the tide to the moon. We were two creatures who should never have found each other, never have touched, never have felt this unbearable pull. 

I am human. Arthur is… not. Half-man, half-siren—a being my people dismissed as myths, whispered as warnings, something both beautiful and terrible, born of the abyss.

But he wasn’t a nightmare to me. He was a promise. One wrapped in the shimmer of a pearl, in the memory of his lips and tongue claiming me as if I already belonged to him.

I was so afraid that if I spoke one more word I’d blurt out that I was in love with him. And that was insane. I wanted to ask—did he feel it too? Could sirens even feel love? Or was this just instinct, some primal need woven into his nature? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I cared. Not when his hand slid lower, heat blooming beneath my skin where his palm lingered, leaving a fire that only he could quench.

Tonight, one way or another, I would give myself to him. I would let him take me, claim me, drown me in the depths of whatever this was. And gods help me, I was ready to beg for it.

I had no idea what it meant to be his mate. Was I about to make a terrible mistake?

Those thoughts shattered the moment his thumb grazed over my hardened nipple, slow and deliberate, as if testing how much I could take. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

With his chest flush against my back, the storm outside raged on, wind howling, rain battering the facility’s walls—but it was nothing compared to the storm unraveling between us. The heat of his body seeped through my clothes, igniting every nerve in my skin. A soft, breathless moan escaped my lips as he rolled the sensitive peak between his fingers, and I felt the warm rush of air from his gills, a shuddering exhale against my shoulder, like he was sighing in bliss.

“You’re sensitive here,” Arthur murmured, his voice thick with quiet reverence, as if he was making some careful observation rather than teasing me to the edge of madness.

I nodded, arching ever so slightly, seeking more. “Yes… I am.” The words came out uneven, little more than a whisper, but he hummed in response, a pleased, knowing sound that sent a thrill through my belly.

The barrier of my clothing was unbearable, tormenting, and I silently pleaded for him to tear it away—to rid me of anything that kept his skin from mine. But Arthur, ever patient, took his time. One hand continued its torturous attention to my breasts, rolling and pinching the stiffened peaks, while the other drifted lower, tracing slow, teasing circles over my stomach. Each movement burned, his webbed fingers barely skimming the waistband of my pants, making me tremble with anticipation.

I rocked my hips forward, a silent plea, urging him to touch me where I ached the most. Instead, Arthur leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of my throat, warm breath fanning against my skin before his teeth ghosted over the pulse hammering beneath. The first pass of his tongue sent shivers through me, a slow, sinuous lick that left a trail of heat in its wake. I moaned, tilting my head, offering him more, and he took it—pressing his mouth to the column of my throat, drinking in every quiver, every shudder.

He could taste it, I realized. The need thrumming through me, the way my body betrayed me with every ragged breath, every rapid beat of my heart. Sirens could sense desire—could drown themselves in it. And Arthur… Arthur was reveling in it.

He pinched my nipple again, rougher this time, sending another wave of pleasure spiraling through me. My hips jerked, seeking friction, and before I could stop myself, I reached up. My fingers tangled in the damp hair at the base of his skull, clutching him to me. A deep, rumbling growl of pleasure vibrated against my skin, his grip tightening as his body rocked into mine.

There was no denying it now. The proof of his own need pressed against me, hard and insistent beneath his scales. His breathing had turned heavier, rougher, lips still tracing along my throat, tasting, savoring, claiming.

We were both unraveling, caught in the storm we had no hope of escaping.

Spreading his fingers wide, he finally dipped below my waistband, and my breath stilled, caught somewhere between anticipation and desperation. His touch was torturously slow as he explored lower, gliding through the dark curls before slipping into the slick heat waiting for him. My body welcomed him eagerly, a moan tumbling from my lips, raw and pleading.

Arthur hissed out a long, shuddering breath against my ear, the sound vibrating through me. His fingers flexed, carefully angling to keep his claws from scraping my sensitive skin, moving with a gentleness that made my chest ache. He explored me as if I were something sacred, something fragile despite the hunger in his touch. I arched into him, seeking more, but his palm remained just out of reach. Teasing. Testing. My frustration curled into something hotter, needier.

The webs between his fingers pressed into me, creating delicious ridges that dragged against my throbbing core. Every slow, gliding stroke sent a pulse of heat rolling through my spine. Fuck. It felt so good. So devastatingly good.

“My girl,” he growled, his voice molten, so deep and low that it settled in my bones. “You are wet… and so soft.”

The way he bit out that last word, rough and devout, sent a thrill down my spine. A whimper left my throat before I could stop it.

Arthur pressed his lips against the shell of my ear. “Move your hips for me, pretty girl. I want to watch you ride my hand.”

Something inside me shattered. A new sound spilled from me—a mix between a cry and a whimper, need unraveling into something desperate. Leaning back against him, I let my body move like a wave, rolling into his touch. Each slow, purposeful grind against his fingers had heat licking up my spine, my moans growing softer, breathier. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the sounds, but fuck—he felt perfect.

I opened my eyes, my vision hazy, only to be met with Arthur’s gaze—those dark, endless pools drinking me in as his hand disappeared between my thighs. His lips curled, tongue darting out as if he could taste every slick, needy sound filling the space between us. His pupils flared, hunger darkening his expression.

Arthur leaned in, voice barely more than a whisper. “Close your eyes… just feel.”

A shudder ripped through me at the command, his voice dripping with something possessive, something all-consuming.

My cheeks burned, heat licking up my neck as my breath turned frantic, every exhale breaking into little gasps. I changed my rhythm, rolling my hips faster, pressing harder, chasing that rising heat curling tight in my core. The tension coiled, winding itself into something unbearable—until it snapped.

Pleasure crashed over me like a wave, thighs shaking as I shattered around him. A long, drawn-out moan broke free from my lips, my body trembling, muscles clenching around the fingers still stroking me through it.

Arthur held me close, one hand slipping up to cup my chin, tilting my face toward his. His lips found mine in a kiss that was slow, claiming, fervent.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against my mouth. His voice was hoarse, filled with something deeper than lust. “You come so pretty, my girl.”

Drawing his fingers out, I caught the glistening evidence of my desire illuminated in the soft, pulsing glow of his bioluminescence. My breath hitched as I watched, completely entranced, while he brought his fingers to his mouth, those dark lips parting just enough for that inky blue tongue to flick out. He sucked his fingers in slowly, deliberately, his tongue lapping at his palm with a deep, indulgent hum. The ridges along the surface of it caught my attention, my mind spiraling with the thought of how they might feel dragging over my skin, exploring every inch of me.

It must feel incredible.

Arthur's gills flared wide, both at his neck and ribs, revealing the delicate, pink membranes hidden within. A shudder rolled through his body, his exhale coming out as something primal, something utterly unrestrained.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled, his voice a low, reverberating thing that seemed to vibrate through my core, settling deep between my legs. “Whatever this is, I wish to coat myself in it.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crawling up my spine, setting my skin ablaze with anticipation. And then, finally, his hands were on me again—frantic, needy—tugging at my clothes as though they were the only thing keeping him from fully devouring me. His fingers trembled slightly as they pulled at the fabric, urgency seeping into every movement.

Like I might vanish with the wind.

He yanked at my top, and I lifted my arms to help him, the garment disappearing in one swift motion. But my pants proved more of an ordeal—my legs shook as I tried to help, my body already weakened from his touch. Arthur let out a soft growl, impatience flashing across his face before he took control. His large hands wrapped around my calf, spinning me effortlessly toward him. My breath left me in a rush as he dragged my pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, the brush of his fingertips sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through me.

Then he tossed them aside, forgotten.

For the first time, I stood completely bare before him. The heavy humid air kissed my overheated skin, briefly cooling the sweat that clung to me, but I barely noticed. My entire world had narrowed to the man in front of me, to the way his glowing skin reflected off the curves of my body, making me feel like something otherworldly myself.

Arthur drank me in, his gaze searing and hungry. Barely contained restraint coiled through his muscles, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap.

I should be afraid. A small, distant voice in my head whispered that I should tell him to stop. That I was standing before something not entirely human, something born from myth, from nightmares.

But I wasn’t afraid.

Somewhere deep inside me, I knew he would be gentle. That he would take his time before fully claiming me.

And all at once, I wanted to know him. To explore him. And to be explored. I had a feeling Arthur wanted the same thing. 

"Teach me how humans mate," Arthur spoke, his voice rough, the words clawing up his throat like he was trying—desperately—to hold himself back.

I faced him fully now, shuffling forward on my knees, closing the space between us until my breasts nearly brushed against his chest. His breathing was uneven, ragged, his gills flaring open as though he couldn’t quite get enough air. I tried to keep my focus locked onto his face, not letting my gaze drift too low—to where his human torso met the shimmering scales of his tail. That junction between two worlds, two forms.

Instead, I leaned in, close enough that the delicate fins near where his ear would be quivered from my breath.

"Remember when I said humans like to kiss everywhere?" I asked, voice soft, teasing.

Arthur nodded, the movement stiff, restrained. Something inside me thrilled at the way he held himself so still, at the way his body hummed with tension just beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the moment to strike.

A rush of boldness overtook me, a primal instinct answering his own. Slowly, I lifted one knee over his lap, straddling him fully, my weight settling onto the powerful expanse of his tail. The moment our bodies met, slick against slick, his breath hitched. He was wet—just as wet as I was—and that realization sent a spark of heat raging through me, settling low in my stomach.

I felt my lips brush against the sensitive seam of his mating slit, the place where he was still keeping himself hidden from me. Not yet, his body seemed to say. Not until he was ready. But he felt me there, pressing against that heat, and his whole frame went rigid beneath me.

Like he was unsure what to do next.

I let my full weight sink down on him, savoring the way his hands flexed against me, how his fingers twitched at my waist like he was trying to memorize the feel of me. Reaching for one of those broad, webbed hands, I guided it to my breast, shivering as he cupped me with a gentleness that made my stomach tighten. His fingers squeezed—tentative at first, then firmer as he felt my body respond to his touch.

"Well..." I exhaled, breathless, eyes fluttering shut as a slow, aching warmth spread through my core. "Kiss me wherever you like."

A sharp sound tore from his throat, somewhere between a growl and a sigh, his fingers spasming at my waist. Then he moved—instinct taking over—his head dipping low as he pressed a lazy, weighted lick over the curve of my breast.

Heat flashed through me, my back bowing as a startled hiss escaped my lips. Arthur didn’t stop. His tongue, ridged and hot, dragged over my nipple in a long, sweeping stroke, the sensation nearly overwhelming. The growl that rumbled against my skin only made the coil inside me tighten further.

Gods above.

His mouth—that mouth—latched onto me, his lips sealing over the sensitive bud, sucking, tasting, devouring. His tongue flicked, his sharp teeth grazing my skin without breaking it, just a whisper of danger curling at the edges of pleasure.

I arched against him, hands flying to his head, fingers digging into the thick, damp strands of his hair as I held him there, desperate for more. Arthur made a sound of approval, the vibrations rippling straight through me, and then his other hand traced up my spine, urging me to lean back, offering myself to him.

And I did.

I let him hold me open, let my body stretch and bend for him. And as I shifted, as my hips rolled forward, I felt it—something new.

Instead of the firm, smooth ridges of his finger webs, this time, I met something softer. Something slick and hot and pulsing. My clit rubbed against his, throbbing and oh so sensitive. The folds of his slit pressed against me, and I realized—our bodies were kissing in more ways than one.

But fuck, those ridges.

They were so distracting, so different—so much a reminder that he was not a human man. And yet, that only fueled my hunger, my need to know him, to understand every foreign, exquisite part of him. I wanted to know every difference. Every inch. Every piece that set him apart.

I dragged my nails down the back of his neck, tracing the delicate, bioluminescent patterns there, feeling the warmth of his blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The tremor that coursed through him at my touch. And beneath me—gods—I could feel the steady, pulsing rhythm of his twin heartbeats against my clit, where we met, where our heat mixed and tangled. A rhythm that felt dangerously in sync with my own.

A deep, guttural growl erupted from his chest, vibrating through my skin, making my stomach tighten with longing. The sound was primal, possessive, a predator reveling in his claim.

I wanted him to lose control. Wanted to feel him shatter against me.

Then there was a sharp nip.

Arthurs lips left my breast, only for his sharp teeth to close over my nipple in a teasing bite. I gasped, a quick, startled sound, pleasure tinged with the faintest sting—until his tongue was there, soothing, laving over the mark with slow, languid strokes. My head tipped back, spine curving as I let myself feel it. The wet heat, the soft scrape of ridges. 

Those iridescent threads. His mark.

He pulled back, his eyes locked onto my chest, staring at where his mouth had been. Something primal flashed across his features, a mix of pride and possession.

Following his gaze, I looked down. Beautiful, glimmering strands of his touch radiated from my nipple, delicate yet meticulous. The patterns mirrored those that lined his tail—intricate, artistic, like brushstrokes from a painter’s hand.

I shuddered. He was painting me. Claiming me.

“I like it,” I whispered, voice breathy, tinged with wonder. “I like knowing that you were here.”

And I did. Gods help me, I really did.

The thought of his marks hidden beneath my clothes—just like the ones on my ear, little pinpricks of salt-laced pain—it thrilled me. A reminder that I was taking something ancient, something untamed, to my bed. Arthur wasn’t human, and that truth only made me crave him more. And he would take me exactly how he wanted.

Arthur’s smile stretched across his face, soft at the edges but smoldering in the center. It was slow and devastating. His eyes crinkled as he licked his lips—as if he could still taste me there.

“I lose myself when you touch me, my love.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.”

His hands slid up my thighs, fingers lingering, exploring, memorizing. Then, with effortless strength, he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around my back as he carried me with him into the water.

The coolness rushed over me in a stark contrast to the feverish heat we had built between us, and I gasped as the sensation sent goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"I want to savor you," Arthur murmured, voice like a promise against my lips. "Not rush this."

I shuddered at the promise in his voice. “Good. Then we’re in agreement.”

Leaning up, I let my tongue glide from his lips to his throat and then gills, feeling his skin twitch beneath the touch. The reaction was instant, involuntarily. A shudder wracked through him, his gills flaring wide, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass with a bruising grip.

A pleased growl rumbled from his chest, deep and low. “Gods, you are so fucking perfect.”

And then he sealed his mouth over mine once again. The moment I breathed him in, he pulled me under.

The water enveloped us in a cool, silken embrace, the world above dissolving into muted ripples. My senses sharpened—the strength of his arms around me, the steady thrumming of his twin heartbeats against my chest, the way his body fit against mine as if molded by the sea itself. His lips never left mine, coaxing, devouring, claiming.

Beneath the water, we moved as one, our bodies shifting, adjusting, discovering. Fingers tracing, mouths tasting, breaths mingling in the space between us.

I opened my eyes, finding his already watching me. And in that endless, glowing blue, I saw it—the hunger, the awe, the reverence.

This was no simple act of desire. Arthur wasn’t just taking me. He was drowning in me. 

And gods help me, I wanted to drown with him.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

Moving quickly through the tank, I had little time to process exactly where Arthur was taking me. The water, dark and thick, swirled around us, alive with hidden movement. 

I closed my eyes, leaning in closer, tucking my head under Arthur's chin as he guided us effortlessly through the darkness. Trusting him, every inch of me surrendering to the rhythm of his movements. There was a strange peace in that—letting go completely, not needing to know where we were headed.

Still, the uncertainty gnawed at the edges of my mind. Was he taking me back to his underwater cave? That dark, secret place where he'd made a nest for himself? It seemed cozy for someone like him, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I would fit into that picture. It was his world, and the thought of mating there instead of making love like humans did felt strangely daunting. It was as if everything about him was alien, untouchable, even though his touch burned through me with a heat I couldn’t escape.

I tried to push the thought aside. I could breathe through him, of course, but the idea of slipping up—of inhaling a lungful of water—sent a sudden pang of fear through me. The panic threatened to pull me out of the moment, to make me pull away, but then I felt him, strong and sure, guiding us deeper.

The faint sound of a lock clicking, followed by the soft hiss of something sliding open, pulled my attention back. What was that? Had he figured out a way to enter different parts of the tank? My thoughts swirled with curiosity, but before I could process it, he pushed us to the surface.

The cool rush of air met my face, and I inhaled deeply, tasting the fresh sea salt on my tongue. I opened my eyes, blinking to adjust to the change in light. It took me a moment, but then it hit me. I recognized the space around us.

We were in the Atlantic seal exhibit—the one at the back of the facility. It was open-air, but sheltered beneath a massive pavilion. The glass walls that surrounded the pool protected the seals from the elements, and the storm outside was beginning to lose its fury.

The seals had been brought inside for safety, their sleek bodies resting in the shallows. The water here was calm, warm, and much shallower than before, and the edges of the pool curved, inviting the seals to rest on the soft dips. It felt almost tranquil, a contrast to the storm that raged just beyond the walls.

But what truly caught my attention, what held me in place for a moment, was the view beyond the glass.

The open ocean stretched out below us, a wild, dark expanse, and the last remnants of the hurricane were fading away. The clouds were parting slowly, leaving behind a blanket of stars, so sharp and vivid they almost seemed too close. The storm’s thunder had quieted to a low rumble in the distance, almost like the earth itself was sighing in relief.

For a fleeting second, it felt as if the world had slowed, as if I could see everything in the universe, all at once, and still—I only wanted him.

Arthur released me from his embrace, and I slowly stepped away, my feet barely reaching the bottom of the pool as I moved toward the glass. The water lapped softly around me, the ripples glistening in the dim light as I knelt on the dip in the pool, pushing myself out of the water. As I did, gooseflesh prickled across my skin, a divergence from the heat that still lingered on me from his touch. 

The ocean breeze, cool and refreshing, swept through me, kissing my flesh like a lover’s soft caress. I closed my eyes and let it wash over, feeling the weight of the storm outside beginning to recede, and I drank in the sensation. The air felt pure, eclectic, a relief from the suffocating humidity of the facility without its air circulation.

I savored the moment, as if the world had paused just for me to take it in.

I felt him before I heard him. Arthur, swimming up behind me, his presence as natural as the water that flowed around us. He joined my side, his movements fluid and effortless. He pushed himself up onto the lip of the pool, his torso settling comfortably on the edge. His gaze, however, was lost, staring beyond the glass, at the endless stretch of ocean and the crashing waves below. 

There was something about the way he looked out at it, a deep, quiet longing that tugged at something inside me. His muscles rippled slightly, his back arched in a way that made the light catch on his skin, revealing the subtle curve of his powerful form.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said, his voice thick and low, full of unspoken emotions, “I’ve been sneakin’ in here after hours to watch the sunrise.”

I glanced up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the way he seemed to blend into the shadows and the soft light, almost as if he were part of the ocean itself. I stood on the dipped edge of the pool, my head barely reaching his chin, and I felt the vulnerability of the moment—the closeness between us, but also the weight of his words.

With gentle hands, I brought his face back to mine, my fingers brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw. I tilted his head just enough to look into his eyes, hoping he could see my sincerity, the quiet plea in my gaze.

“You can go wherever you please, Arthur,” I whispered, my voice soft but certain. “This place,” I swept my arm around the pool, motioning to the space around us, “this facility—it’s not a cage. If you wish to leave, I’ll make it happen.” My throat tightened as I searched for the right words. "I never want you to feel like you're..." I trailed off, knowing it wasn’t as simple as that.

Arthur’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, but it was his eyes that spoke louder than any words. They told me something far more complicated than just the idea of freedom. They told me about a man torn between the world he was forced to live in and the world he wanted. 

And as much as I wanted to give him everything, to take him away from all this, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. 

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the truth settle in my chest. No matter how I spun it, the truth was clear—he was trapped here, at least for now. The world outside had hurt him too much. The people who had done this to him needed to be held accountable, and I would make sure they were. Whether it was behind bars, or not breathing at all. But for now, we were stuck in this cage together.

Before I could voice any of those tangled thoughts, Arthur’s deep voice, familiar and reassuring, rumbled through me, “I’m right where I want to be, darlin’.”

And in that moment, with the soft crash of the waves and the quiet hum of the night around us, I realized that maybe he was right.

Leaning down, Arthur captured me in another kiss, his lips devouring mine with an urgency that took my breath away. His hands grasped me tightly, pulling me closer, and as I moved, his tail slid between my legs, the strong muscles and smooth scales gliding against my clit. The heat surged back, a sharp contrast to the coolness of the water, as if it had never truly left. I felt the pulse of his presence in every inch of my skin, the weight of him, the intensity of everything that had brought us here.

In this position, Arthur was above me, his body looming like a protective force, a reminder of that first morning we spent together. That day, when I had explored him with nothing but curiosity and a featherlight touch, unsure of what I would find. Now, it was a different kind of exploration, deeper, more intimate. 

My fingers traced down his neck, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath my touch, and then over the delicate curve of his gills. They fluttered under my fingertips like fragile wings, their texture a world of their own. I marveled at how strong and yet so vulnerable they were, the way they moved with his breath, rising and falling in a rhythm that mirrored the twin heartbeats within his chest.

When my hands reached the larger gills on his side, Arthur froze. I could feel his body tense, every muscle going rigid at the lightest touch. I ghosted my fingers over the delicate filaments, and he shuddered beneath me, his breath hitching.

"S-sweetheart," his voice was shaky, strained, "when you touch me like that, it's..."

A giggle escaped my throat, the sound light but filled with an unmistakable thrill. "Sensitive?" I teased, my grin widening as I felt the power of the moment shift in my favor. 

To tease him, to give him a taste of the same pleasure and torment he brought me—it was intoxicating. I rolled my fingers over the silky membrane of his gills, and he let out a choked groan, the sound so raw and vulnerable that it sent a shiver down my spine.

"F-fuck... ngh—y-yes," Arthur hissed, his voice thick with the tension building in his body. His tail lashed through the water, the movement so powerful that it nearly knocked me off my feet. The sensation of his raw need, the way his body writhed under my touch, was almost more than I could bear.

But as much as I reveled in the sight of him undone, overstimulated by the sensation of my fingers on his gills, it wasn't quite what I had in mind. My hands left the sensitive slits, and I felt the heavy release of his breath, a sigh that seemed to escape from deep within his chest. I trailed my fingers lower, shifting my focus, and I watched him closely, never breaking eye contact as I moved.

Arthur, sensing what I intended, leaned back slightly, resting his head against the glass wall that separated us from the open sea. His eyes, dark pools of sapphire, locked onto mine with a trust so intense it made my heart ache. There was so much unspoken between us, so much he allowed me to see of him. And yet, even in this moment, it was clear that his body—his autonomy—was something he gave me, something he allowed me to touch. 

But still never truly owned in its entirety.

As I traced the edge of his mating slit, I saw the vulnerability in him—raw and exposed, a part of him that he rarely let anyone witness. His trust in me was palpable, and with every touch, every movement, I realized just how much of himself he had granted me. The realization settled deep in my chest, a weight that made the moment feel even more intimate, more meaningful. His longing was written all over him, but this was his body, his choice. 

I was still learning, still understanding how much of him was his own, no matter how familiar our bodies felt together. Arthur was not a human man. 

“Is this okay?” I asked softly, the sincerity in my voice offering him the freedom to refuse if he needed it. But the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know—he wasn’t going to pull away.

Arthur’s grin spread wider, his tongue flicking out in a teasing motion, his impatience barely contained. “You know you don’t have to ask, pretty girl.” The wink he shot my way was playful, yet something about it sent a flurry of butterflies through my stomach, a spark of anticipation racing through me.

It wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but it was more than enough—permission granted, clear and everlasting. 

I took a slow breath, letting my fingers hover over his slit for a heartbeat before I let them dance along its edge. The sensation of his heat under my fingertips was exhilarating, and I let my hand slip lower, gliding over the silky smoothness of his need. I coated my fingers with the same arousal I had given his hand earlier, savoring the feeling of him in my touch. He was so wet, and it was all for me.

Arthur’s breathing deepened, the weight of his gasps reverberating through the space between us. His gills flared wide, the movement so primal it almost felt like he was trying to inhale the very air from my lungs. The tension in him was unmistakable.

“Oh, honey,” I cooed, my voice dropping to a soft, earnest tone, a contrast to the simmering heat between us. “I will always ask you first. It’s important for humans to communicate their needs when they mate.” I brushed my middle and ring fingers over his clit, watching as his muscles tensed in response, his body locking up for a brief moment. "You always have a choice. If something doesn’t feel right—or if you just want me to stop—all you have to do is say the word." 

He hissed out a long breath as my fingers teased the entrance, forcing out the words with a low groan. “D-don’t stop.” 

"Before I touch you, I’ll have your consent first. Every time. With everything I do, I want your hearts in it too. And then… I’ll ask you—do you like that?"

My hand moved with purpose, rolling my wrist in slow, deliberate circles, every motion controlled but full of intention. And oh, he liked it. Fuck, he even whimpered. Arthur’s body writhed beneath me, the strain visible as he fought to keep himself from bucking into my touch, his tail thrashing gently against the water. The rawness of the moment, of how much control he was handing over, gave me a high unlike anything before.

"Even when you can't find the words, I'll still ask—does that feel good, baby?" My voice was barely above a whisper now, but it was filled with conviction. 

I needed him to know that his pleasure, his voice, mattered. It was a quiet promise between us, one that resonated in the very air we shared.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head tilting back against the glass wall, and he nodded in a jerky, almost desperate motion. His breath was ragged, blowing out rapidly through his gills as his slick warmth continued to spill over my fingers. It was impossibly wet, dripping down the side of his tail as I quickened my pace, matching his rising need with every stroke.

I grinned, feeling a surge of power as a deep groan rose from his throat. The sound was primal, and his clawed hands gripped the edge of the pool with such intensity that I could feel the muscles in his arms straining beneath the motion. His veins grew and pulsed along the skin of his forearm. My own heat between my legs was building steadily, every inch of my body attuned to him, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips down against the rigid muscle of his tail. The contact sent jolts of heat through me, intensifying this thick tension between us.

“Sometimes,” I paused, savoring the moment, feeling the raw desire flare in my eyes as I spoke. His brows furrowed in frustration, breath quickening. “I may even ask you to tell me what you need.” My words hung in the air, a challenge, a promise. 

Arthur’s gaze snapped open, locking onto mine with desperate intensity, and I could see it—the hunger. He wanted more. He wanted it all. But I was in control now. And I was savoring every moment of making this massive, powerful creature beg for what he craved.

“Please,” he didn’t need to say a word for me to know exactly what he was thinking, but when he did, it was a low growl that sent a shiver through me. “I need,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

And then, what he did next surprised me, but it only sent a thrill of excitement coursing through my body. Arthur grabbed my wrist with almost brutal urgency, guiding my fingers toward his entrance, his touch insistent. I couldn’t help but gasp softly as his heat surrounded my fingers, slick and welcoming as he pushed them in. 

His hiss echoed in the quiet space, and as the word slipped from his lips, the rawness of it had me aching for him.

“You,” he breathed, eyes locked onto mine with a pleading desperation.

It would be sinful to deny him when he asked so sweetly. As I sank my fingers into his slick heat, I felt the undeniable strength coiled within him—tight, powerful, and yet yielding beneath my touch. His body mirrored my own in ways I understood, yet there was something exquisitely foreign about him, something that made my breath hitch with fascination.

A trembling, melodic moan spilled from his lips as I dragged my fingers out, only to sink them back in, slow and vigilant. The way he clenched around me, the way his body reacted so beautifully, had me utterly entranced.

I let out a slow, measured breath, watching the way his body trembled beneath my touch. His gills flared, his claws flexed, and his tail twitched with restrained urgency. He was holding himself back—barely. 

And gods, did that make me want to give him everything.

I pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, letting my lips linger against the damp heat of his skin. “You’re being so good for me, Arthur,” I murmured, my voice a low hum against his throat. “So strong, so beautiful… and so needy.” 

I dragged my fingers along the sensitive flesh where I knew he was aching for more, teasing, coaxing, making sure he knew that I saw him. That I felt his want, his desperation, and that I wanted it just as badly.

"You've been craving this since the moment we met," I purred, my fingers working deeper, drawing another shudder from him. "Needing someone to touch you like this… to guide you through the season. Help you find release."

I picked up my pace, and the groan that tore from his lips was nothing short of divine. Leaning in, I let my breath ghost over his ear, savoring the way he shuddered.

"Someone like me," I murmured, voice dripping with promise, "someone to take care of you."

A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, but there was no anger in it—just raw, aching need. I smiled against his skin, pressing my body closer, grinding just slightly against the ridges of his tail. My own need was probably burning into his flesh as I spoke.

“I love feeling you like this,” I continued, my fingers pressing just a little deeper, feeling the way he clenched around them. “Letting me touch you. Letting me feel how much you want me.” I curled my fingers, rubbing slow, pressured strokes, and his entire body jerked. 

Bullseye. His cunt had that perfect sweet spot, just like mine—hot, sensitive, and begging for attention. 

The moment I found it, Arthur's whole body tensed, a desperate, shuddering moan spilling from his lips. He was melting beneath me, unraveling with every stroke, every teasing press of my fingers. Completely, utterly mine.

His breath hitched, his tail slashing once through the water before curling tightly around my thigh, as if he couldn’t bear for me to be even a fraction away from him. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart—” His voice broke, a shudder rolling through his massive frame.

I grinned, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Oh, honey,” I cooed, nipping at his skin. “You don’t have to hold back with me. You shouldn’t hold back with me.” I quickened my pace, watching as his grip on the edge of the pool tightened, as his hips rocked helplessly toward my hand, chasing the friction. 

“This pleasure is yours just as much as you are mine.”

His eyes snapped open at that, something wild and vulnerable flashing through them, but I didn’t let up. I wanted him to believe it. To feel it.

I dragged my free hand down his chest, feeling the heavy, rapid thrum of his twin heartbeats against my palm. Muscles tensing and rippling with every stroke. “Let me hear you, Arthur,” I whispered, lips ghosting over his ear. “Let me feel you come undone.”

A deep, rolling vibration bloomed beneath my palm, starting in his chest and spreading outward—a purr, low and unrestrained, shaking through his massive frame like a storm barely contained. My breath caught at the sheer feel of it, how it reverberated through me, sank into my bones, made my skin prickle with something warm and electric.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasped, a blissful moan slipping past my lips as pleasure surged through me. His whole tail vibrated with it, firm and unrelenting against my core, sending shockwaves of heat through my body. I let my fingers dig into him, teasing, savoring. “You purring like that for me?”

Arthur barely managed a grunt in response, too lost to the sensations I was dragging him through. His head lolled back against the glass, his gills flaring wide with each breath, knuckles white as he scraped against the ledge.

As if he were trying to hold himself to this plane of reality and not be swept under completely.

But I wanted him swept under.

I wanted him undone in a way he’d never been before.

As he slicked over my fingers, hot and heady, something inside me ached to know more—to feel more, to taste more of him.

I moved without thinking, shifting down, pressing soft kisses along the length of his torso, trailing lower and lower until I was kneeling in the shallow water before him. My fingers were still buried inside him, still curling and stroking in slow, precise movements, and when I leaned down—when I pressed my mouth to where my fingers disappeared inside him—Arthur’s whole body froze.

“D-darlin’ wha—what’re you—“ 

“Relax,” I cooed. “I’m kissin’ you. Just feel.” Repeating his words from earlier when he shattered my mind with only his hand. 

Sucking on that sensitive nub, in the exact way that would send a woman like me over the edge. A sharp gasp tore from his lips, his tail kicking wildly beneath me, nearly knocking me off balance. His entire body went rigid, his breath stalling for just a second before it hitched and broke into a desperate, strangled sound that sent heat pooling deep in my belly.

“Sweetheart—please…I-I’m mmffuuck—” His voice was hoarse, wrecked, his hips rocking instinctively toward my mouth as if he were utterly powerless against the pull of pleasure.

I hummed, taking my time, dragging myself along the delicate, fluttering muscle beneath my lips, tasting the briny sweetness of him. Flicking my tongue and feeling every one of his nerves come to life as it pulsed in rhythm with his glowing lights. 

“You like that huh?” I teased, licking up his slit before pulling him back into my warm mouth. 

He was writhing, his voice barely audible as he choked. “Y-yes I—fuck that feels s-so good.” 

It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, intoxicating and primal, and the way he reacted only made me crave him more.

Arthur was panting now, one hand rested on the back of my head, sharp claws dangerously close to my scalp. The other hand digging into the stone, his twin heartbeats hammering against my palm where I still held him. His purring had turned frantic, uneven, broken by sharp gasps and shuddering moans, his body trembling beneath me as I coaxed him toward the edge.

Dragging my fingers from his warmth, I kept my tongue focused, mapping every inch of his slick heat as I searched for something more—something deeper. My breath hitched when I found it.

At the base of his slit, I felt it—something unmistakably firm, pulsing beneath the surface, pressing against my touch as if drawn to me, as if yearning.

"Arthur," I murmured, my voice low and tantalizing. "I want to see you. All of you."

A shudder ran through him, his body taut with restraint. Even as his chest heaved, even as his hearts pounded wildly, he still held back.

And I knew why.

The memory of our first time crept between us like a shadow. The moment he had bared himself to me in full—vulnerable and aching—my own startled hesitation had fractured his confidence. Not rejection, never that, but enough uncertainty to plant the seed of doubt within him. And now, even with my mouth pressed to his most sensitive places, even with my fingers coaxing him toward release, he hesitated.

I wouldn’t let that happen again.

Sliding my free hand up, I traced along his torso, brushing my fingers over the delicate slits of his gills. Soft. Silken. So devastatingly sensitive. Perhaps I was pushing him too far, I knew that if I touched him here he would be unable to control it. His breath caught, body trembling beneath my touch, stuck in the warring tides of desire and doubt.

"Let go, honey," I whispered, pressing soft, slow circles against the slit between his scales, teasing, soothing, urging. “You don’t need to hide yourself.” 

A strangled whimper escaped him—so raw, so desperate that it sent a thrill straight through me. Desperation aching between my legs as I clenched around nothing, the anticipation was enough to make me dizzy. 

And then it happened.

He gave in.

Complete and utter surrender.

I felt it before I saw it—the way his muscles relaxed, the way his slit parted, and the way something thick and wet unfurled into my waiting hands. Gliding between my fingers. Hot. Slick. Pulsing with an unrelenting need.

A gasp caught in my throat as my fingers traced over his length, marveling at the alien smoothness of it. Unlike a human’s, his skin here was impossibly soft, almost velvety, but firm beneath my touch. Toward the base was thick, swollen, coated with sticky arousal, while the shaft tapered to a rounded point, long and elegant. My fingertips glided along its seamless curve, feeling the subtle ridges, oh yes, he had ridges here too. It twitched and flexed instinctively at my touch.

It was strange and yet, somehow, arousingly perfect. Designed to be felt. To be worshiped.

And oh, I intended to worship it.

"That’s it, baby," I purred against him, wrapping my fingers around his glossy length, stroking slowly, savoring the way he trembled for me. "Let me take care of you. Let me feel you come."

Pressing my lips to his clit, I let my tongue tease and flick, tasting the briny-sweet essence of his arousal as I stroked his cock. Arthur jerked, a broken moan tumbling from his lips, his tail thrashing beneath me as if he couldn’t control it. 

Gods, he was fucking perfect.

A guttural, near-animalistic roar tore from his throat, his entire body seizing, and I barely had time to brace myself before he came undone. His tail thrashed, his muscles locked, and I felt the rush of wet heat against my tongue, the desperate shudders that wracked through him, the sheer, overwhelming force of his climax.

I clung to him, savoring every broken moan, every helpless twitch, every tremor that wracked his body as he came apart for me—completely, unashamedly, beautifully. The realization struck me then, a delicious surprise—his separate sexes could reach their peaks independently. And oh, the possibilities that opened up. So many ways I could unravel him, shatter him over and over again… if he didn’t completely wear me out first.

As he slumped back against the glass, utterly spent and panting like he’d just survived a war, I slowly pulled away, savoring the way his body still shook with aftershocks above me. Pressing one last lingering kiss against his sensitive flesh, I finally let my gaze drop, truly taking in the sight before me.

“Holy shit…” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. “You really do have two.”

I had felt it, but seeing it was something else entirely. It would take some time to wrap my head around the sheer beauty of it—because that’s what it was. Beautiful. I realized I had been stroking the bottom one, my fingers wrapped around its soft heat, while another identical appendage stood erect above it. They were joined together at the base where they had emerged from his slit, a perfect mirror of each other. In the low lighting, their color became more apparent—a lighter, almost iridescent blue, reminiscent of his tongue. And those sinful ridges… they traced all the way from the smooth, tapered heads down the underside, subtle yet pronounced, meant to drive whoever took him to madness.

A shiver of excitement coursed through me.

Arthur was big too, thick and impossibly heavy beneath my fingers, though I had already suspected as much. I could barely wrap my hand around one, let alone both. They weren’t exactly rigid, like humans. But instead, solid yet pliable. A fluid kind of firmness that still allowed the right amount of flexibility. They were supple, almost like... fuck, like a tentacle—perfectly balanced between softness and strength.

Yet in my arousal—my love-drunk haze—I wasn’t concerned with whether he would fit. Because he would. Because I would make him.

His breathless reply finally came, slow and laced with the remnants of his climax.

“Yeah… I really do.”

I looked up to find him watching me, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath. His entire body was still trembling with the aftershocks, but there was something else there, something almost spiritual in the way he gazed at me. Like I was unreal. Like I was divine.

Like I had just handed him a new god to worship. And maybe I did. 

Then, a clawed hand slipped around my waist, trailing lower, teasing the curve of my bottom. A devious glint flashed in his eyes, that exhaustion from mere moments ago replaced by something insatiable, something hungry.

“And you’ve got two holes,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky with desire.

A single teasing finger dipped lower, pressing lightly against that forbidden place, and a thrill shot through me. I had never taken a man there before—never even considered it—but the idea of Arthur being my first? That was intoxicating.

Pressing my body flush against him, I let out a soft, pleased hum as he swirled his finger, coaxing a new kind of ache to bloom inside me.

“Mhm,” I purred into his ear, my lips brushing the sensitive fins there. “It’s like I was made just for you.”

Arthur’s grin was slow and wicked, his sharp fangs glinting in the dim light.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice thick like honey. “Just fr’me.”

Then, with effortless strength, he pushed himself off the edge of the pool, taking me with him as he sank our bodies back into the water. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, his cocks pressing against my aching heat, the sensation alone nearly sending me over the edge. The anticipation was maddening—I was ready to beg, to insist that he take me right here, split me open on his thick cock until I couldn’t speak.

But Arthur had other plans.

He crossed the pool, carrying me effortlessly through the water, until he reached the shallower end where the rocky curve sloped up like the natural landscape of a beach. Then, pulling himself from the water, he laid back against the warm, smooth stone, his muscles gleaming under the dim light, his gaze locked onto mine with pure, unrestrained desire.

His hands found my hips, his touch firm and possessive.

“My turn,” he rumbled, patting my bottom with a teasing smack, urging me forward.

I blinked, realization dawning as heat pooled low in my belly.

“Come ride my face, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise. “I wanna drown in that sweet taste of yours.”

Finally. That slick, sinuous, and utterly sinful tongue was mine to claim.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

Arthur’s gaze burned with unrelenting hunger as his mate crawled up his torso, every movement deliberate, her eyes locked onto his with a silent anticipation that sent a primal thrill through him. Something had shifted—his words had unlocked a deep, hidden desire within her, something raw and unrestrained. Tonight, he would have her trembling, breathless, crying out his name until it was the only thing she could remember. He would etch himself into her soul, claim her so thoroughly that no human touch could ever compare. She would yearn for him, crave him, beg for him to take her, to fill her over and over until she was swollen with his child.

The thought sent a possessive heat curling low in his belly, an ache unlike any other. Arthur had spent a lifetime yearning for freedom, dreaming of the ocean’s vast and endless horizon—but beneath it all, there had always been something deeper. A longing for purpose. A need to protect, to nurture. To have a family again. To raise a child in the ways of his people—what little he could still remember—to teach, to provide, to love. And now, the female who had captured his hearts lay above him, offering herself to him so freely, so trustingly.

It drove him absolutely wild with desire.

His twin cocks twitched and pulsed as she straddled his face, thighs spread wide on either side of him. And gods, her scent—it was intoxicating, heady and thick, curling around his senses like a siren’s call. So close to his gills, it was all he could breathe, all he could taste, an irresistible lure that had him parting his lips in anticipation. The moment his tongue tasted the air, he nearly lost himself.

Instincts roared to life, drowning out reason, darkening the edges of his vision with a need so deep it bordered on madness. Breed, they urged. Fill her, claim her, fuck her until every last drop of his seed was buried inside her tight, aching heat. Until she was marked by him in every possible way.

But Arthur had learned patience—decades of solitude had taught him restraint. He knew humans mated differently, savoring the slow burn, the delicate unraveling. And he could see it in her—she was relishing in the exploration of his body just as much as he was hers.

So he would take his time.

Slowly, reverently, he would worship every inch of her, tasting, teasing, until she was trembling, pleading, desperate for more. Until she was ready to take all of him.

Letting out a trembling breath, she eased her hips down, hovering just above his parted lips. The heat of her, the exhilarating scent of her arousal, had Arthur’s gills flaring wide as he let his tongue slip out. Dragging a hot, wet stripe from the base of her entrance to the little pearl hidden beneath.

Gods, it is so much like his own. Her body mirrored his in ways he was only beginning to understand, the similarities both fascinating and maddening.

A breathy moan filled the silence as her hips jerked up in an involuntary response, her thighs quivering above him. Arthur smirked against her slick folds, knowing his ridged tongue must have been rough against her soft, sensitive flesh. A stark contrast to the way her own tongue had felt against him—smooth, impossibly silken—a torturously agile muscle that had him seeing stars, his tail trembling as she wrung him dry.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t ya?” His voice was thick with desire, dark and teasing. Gripping her bottom, he kneaded the supple flesh, coaxing her to lower those beautiful hips again. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Please, sit on my face.”

She let out the prettiest little sigh as she finally surrendered, sinking down and pressing herself fully against his waiting mouth. Arthur let out a deep hum of satisfaction—this was heaven, it had to be. He had never been a religious man, but between her thighs, he swore he had just met god.

Puckering his lips, he placed a lingering kiss against her clit before drawing it into his mouth, sucking gently, teasing her with the tip of his tongue.

Her cry split the air, sharp and breathless, her fingers tangling in his damp hair with a desperate grip. Her thighs quivered against his face, her body tightening and arching like a bowstring. She had ridden his hand earlier like a woman starved, grinding against his calloused palm with reckless abandon—yet now, against the ridges of his tongue, she trembled as though he was unraveling her piece by delicate piece.

“You alright?” Arthur rumbled, recalling her little mating lesson on human communication. Whatever she needed from him, he would give without hesitation.

She nodded quickly, sucking in a shaky breath as his hot exhale ghosted against her core. “Y-yeah… your tongue just feels so good, Arthur.” His name came out in a breathless pant, raw and pleading, like she was coiled tight and ready to shatter.

Fuck.

Hearing her say his name like that sent a rush of blood straight to his cocks, his vision darkening at the edges with something feral, almost possessive. His fingers flexed against her ass, holding her firmly in place as he growled, “Good. Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Her gaze flickered down, brow pinching together in surprise at his sudden command. He met her eyes, unwavering, voice rough with impatience.

“Ride my face.”

A delicious tremor ran through her, and then finally—finally—she rolled her hips, gliding against his mouth just as she had done against his palm. And fuck, she was utterly perfect.

“Atta girl,” he groaned, voice thick with need.

Pushing out his long tongue, he laid it flat against his chin, offering himself up for her pleasure as she ground down onto him. A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against her as she moaned, loud and unabashed. Her slick coated his taste buds, warm and succulent, her soft folds silkier than the petals of a water lily as they skated over his mouth.

Arthur breathed her in, pulling her scent deep into his lungs, letting it sink into his very bones. Every nerve in his body burned with the need to memorize her, to commit every note of her arousal to memory, something he could cling to when they were apart.

Closing his lips around that swollen nub, he licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue in gradual circles until her hips bucked wildly against him. Blunt nails scraped against his scalp as she grasped at him, desperate for something to ground her in the storm of pleasure he was dragging her through.

His grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into soft flesh, claws pressing dangerously close to breaking skin as he nipped at her folds. But he didn’t just lick her—no, Arthur devoured her. He was messy, unrestrained, and loud, filling the space with deep, throaty groans and eager slurps, as if she was the most divine thing he had ever tasted.

Because she was.

She cried his name, a broken, desperate sound, trying to lift her hips and escape the relentless pleasure. But he wasn’t about to let her go. Taking full advantage, he plunged his tongue deep inside, feeling her body clench around him as he claimed every inch of her from the inside out. Every ounce of his attention zeroed in between her thighs, his ridged tongue carving out a space for himself that he knew she would feel everywhere. Those bumps stroked along her soft, velvety walls, dragging over her sensitive clit with each deliberate movement. He licked, sucked, and teased until she was trembling violently in his arms, a heaving, incoherent mess.

A string of curses spilled from her lips, each one stoking the fire inside him, driving him closer to madness. His tail thrashed in the water, desperate to coil around something, desperate to ground himself as his own arousal surged past the point of reason. His cocks were aching, weeping, throbbing with the unbearable need to be inside her—to replace his tongue with something thicker, heavier, to stretch her open and fill her to the brim with his heat.

And then she leaned forward, her body shaking, and began rolling her hips, undulating in a slow, sensual rhythm, fucking his tongue as she chased her release.

Arthur groaned, his entire body shuddering at the sight of her above him, lost in pleasure, lost in him. Gripping one of his cocks, he stroked himself with a rough, desperate hand. Pre-cum slicking his fingers as he imagined her wrapped around him, wet and tight, squeezing him with every rapid heartbeat.

Arousal dripped down his chin, sliding into his gills, and Arthur nearly lost himself. They flared against her thighs, fluttering greedily, as if seeking more—more of her scent, more of her taste, more of her. The urge to flip her over, to pin her down and claim her fully, was almost unbearable.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, eyes dark and heavy as he watched her writhe above him. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her nipples pebbling into tight peaks, a sight so tantalizing it made his mouth water. He licked her lips, gaze locked onto her as she used him, as she took her pleasure from him.

“Ain’tchu a pretty sight,” Arthur cooed between thrusts, his voice thick with hunger, worshipful and wild all at once.

Something behind her must have caught her attention, her gaze drifting over her shoulder as she watched him stroking himself. A soft pout formed on her lips, full and enticing, before she gave a quiet, disapproving hum.

“Stop that,” she murmured.

Arthur’s lips curled against her folds, his breath warm and teasing. “Un-unh,” he rumbled, tongue flicking against her clit. “Don’tchu worry about me now, keep on.”

But she wasn’t having it. In a sudden shift, she pulled her thighs from around his face, and he growled—a low, primal sound of frustration. His instincts screamed at him to seize her hips, to pull her back down, to demand she ride his mouth until she was sobbing his name, her juices slicking his tongue, dripping down his chin, saturating his throat.

But if he’d learned anything from her little lesson, consent was important. No matter how desperately he ached to have her, if she wanted to stop, he would obey.

A breathless giggle escaped her lips as she lifted one thigh, twisting away from him. “Relax, big guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Arthur blinked, puzzled for a moment as she resettled above him—only this time, her back was facing him.

Then she began to lower herself again, and realization crashed into him like a tidal wave.

“I think you’re going to like this,” she whispered.

Gods above.

She bent forward, offering him a front-row seat to the breathtaking view of her plump ass and the glistening, swollen lips of her pussy. A masterpiece, a canvas begging for him to paint with his tongue. His fingers clenched, nails pressing into his palms as his restraint frayed at the edges.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked with need. “Look at you. I ain’t never seen nothin’ more perfect.”

Unable to contain himself, he leaned forward, dragging his tongue in a slow, reverent stripe from her clit up the base of her spine. The taste of her here sent a thrill throughout his body. She shuddered at the contact, a gasp escaping her lips as her back arched, presenting herself to him in full.

And then—Arthur froze. A ghost of warm breath fanned over the tip of his cock.

Twin hearts stuttered, pounding out of rhythm. His mind, already clouded with lust, struggled to catch up. But before he could even form a thought—before he could even breathe—a wet, sinful heat engulfed the head of his cock.

His whole world shattered.

Vision exploded into stars, white-hot and blinding. Darkness crept at the edges of his mind, threatening to pull him under. A strangled, animalistic growl tore from his throat as instinct took over. His hips jerked upward, seeking more of that delicious heat, that tight suction wrapping around him like a vice. It felt perfect, she felt like home.

And she took him with ease. Jaw widening to take all of him.

His smooth skin, already dripping with pre-cum, slid effortlessly down her throat, her lips sealing around him in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. The sensation sent lightning down his spine, setting every nerve on fire. 

Then—oh fuck—his second cock.

As the first one disappeared into the warmth of her mouth, the other slid between the pillowy softness of her breasts, nestled in their embrace as she moved. Each subtle shift, each press of her skin against him, stroked him with a maddening friction that made his tail coil, his claws scratch at the ground.

He was losing himself.

Arthur was about to thrust again, to surrender completely, when she suddenly pulled back, lips gliding off his length with a wet pop. His cock twitched at the loss, desperate for more, but before he could even protest, she swirled her tongue around the head, teasing, rubbing over the slit with slow, deliberate strokes.

He choked on his breath, body locking up, teetering on the edge of ruin.

And then he remembered—remembered the treasure that lay before him, glistening, waiting, begging to be worshiped just as she was worshiping him.

With a sharp inhale, Arthur wrenched himself from the haze of pleasure, pulling his mind from the way her mouth sucked and stroked. And with renewed hunger, he buried his face between her thighs, lavishing her with the same fervor she gave him, licking, tasting, devouring her like a starved man at a feast.

This new angle allowed him to thrust his tongue deeper, curling and pressing against the sweet spots that made her cry out, her body trembling with need. Each stroke of his tongue sent another wave of pleasure crashing over her, while she, in turn, learned from him—every shudder, every twitch, every growl he made as she explored his length. Her soft little tongue traced the ridges of his cock, her lips gliding down the shaft with slow strokes, teasing, taunting.

Arthur nearly lost control when she scraped her teeth ever so lightly over the tapered head. His body jerked, his gills flaring wide as a strangled groan ripped from his chest. Gods above—apparently, he loved that. He hadn't even known about it until now.

She was teaching him things about himself, unraveling new depths of his pleasure just as he was discovering hers.

His heavy-lidded gaze locked onto the mesmerizing sight of her back arching, thighs trembling around his face every time his tongue slipped—teasing that forbidden entrance. She clenched instinctively, her muscles fluttering around him in shy resistance. Arthur wasn’t sure if it was hesitation or something deeper, but she seemed unsure, almost bashful about this particular touch.

And that only made him want to worship her more.

With a deep, godly growl, he gripped the plush curves of her ass, kneading the supple flesh in his rough palms. His claws skimmed lightly over her skin, just enough to leave her shivering as he spread her open, exposing every inch of her to his hungry mouth. He returned to her clit first, laving over the swollen bud with slow, languid strokes, coaxing her muscles to relax. Her body softened against him, just enough—just enough for him to press his mouth over her, his tongue prodding over that tight, untouched ring of muscle.

Her reaction was instant.

“Arthur!” she gasped, voice breaking on a sharp cry—somewhere between shock and something else, something breathless and raw.

Arthur stilled, his tongue retreating as he soothed her with a gentle, circling thumb. His heart pounded, worry flickering through the thick haze of his lust. Had he gone too far? Had he overwhelmed her?

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was rough, hoarse with restraint. He needed her, but he’d rather burn alive than push her past her comfort.

A shaky breath left her, but the scent that filled his lungs next stole his own. A fresh wave of arousal coated her sweet pussy, thick and glistening, her body betraying her hesitation.

Did she… like this?

A slow, wicked grin curled at his lips.

Arthur added the slightest pressure, teasing, testing, his thumb circling as his tongue returned to her clit, flicking, licking—doubling the sensation.

She jolted, her hips wriggling against him, pleasure tangling with her uncertainty. “N-no—it doesn’t hurt, I just…” She trailed off, breath hitching as he pressed another teasing lick to her clit. “It—It’s just…”

The words wouldn’t come.

Arthur pulled back just enough to murmur against her flushed skin. “It’s beautiful,” he finished for her, voice thick with reverence. “Just like you.”

A soft, helpless sound slipped from her lips—something blissful, something like surrender.

A shudder rolled through her, and then she was trembling. “Oh, Arthur, I—fuck, I-I’m close…”

He kept up his pace, relentless yet purposeful, his tongue flicking and swirling over her swollen clit, drawing out every ragged breath, every quiver of pleasure that rippled through her. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles around the slick entrance nestled between the soft curve of her ass, teasing, coaxing. Each stroke eased the tight ring of muscle just a little more, and the way her body trembled beneath his touch made his own restraint threadbare.

When her lips wrapped around him again, taking him in with the same achingly slow, worshipful devotion, a deep, guttural groan tore from his throat. The hot, wet pull of her mouth matched the rhythm of his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. His orgasm loomed, swelling like a rising tide, threatening to crash over him, but he needed her to come first.

Her breath hitched, panting, breaking into frantic little gasps. He could feel it—her body winding tight, on the precipice of release, her movements growing sloppy and desperate. But Arthur didn’t mind, not for a second.

“I need you to come, baby.” His voice was rough, thick with hunger as he murmured against her flushed skin, his lips brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’ve been dying to see you come for me like this.”

He never paused in his ministrations, never relented.

A keening cry ripped from her throat, her body going taut—held in that exquisite, breathless moment before she shattered completely. And then she broke, pleasure surging through her like wildfire, her release spilling over his tongue, soaking him in her essence.

“Good girl,” Arthur coaxed, his voice molten as he lapped up every last drop, drawing out every aftershock, every tremor. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”

She shook violently, her body limp and spent as she slumped against his chest, utterly undone. Arthur barely noticed the added weight pressing into him—his mate was falling apart in his arms, and fuck, it was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

She was perfect.

Her scent, thick with lust, wrapped around him, and when she whispered his name in that wrecked, blissful way, something inside him nearly snapped.

With gentle strength, he lifted her, shifting her trembling body so she could rest against him. He sat up, holding her close, his calloused fingers stroking up and down her spine, grounding her. “I’ve got you,” he soothed, pressing a slow, affectionate kiss to her damp temple.

She blinked up at him, dazed, her pupils blown wide, her cheeks flushed a deep, intoxicating red. Her hair was a tousled mess, her lips swollen and glistening, and fuck—if anyone else saw her like this, they’d think they had already mated.

But the night was just beginning.

Arthur had made her come twice now. He had only unraveled once. And the next time? It would be when he was buried deep inside her, his cock pulsing, filling her with every drop of his release, marking her as his.

The thought sent a violent shudder through him, his tail twitching in anticipation.

Breathing hard, she gazed up at him, her eyes wide with something close to awe. Arthur was certain of it. “Wow,” she whispered, breathy and sweet.

He was panting too, his gills flaring wide, both of his cocks aching with raw need for what he knew was coming next. But still, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear it from her lips, needed the reassurance, the praise.

“That was good?” His voice was low, husky, edged with the remnants of restraint.

Her melodic giggle sent a bolt of heat down his spine, making both of his hearts stutter. “That was perfect.” She traced her gaze down the broad expanse of his chest, her fingers following the rivulets of water gliding over his skin, before dipping lower, toward the thick, twitching appendages at the base of his slit. Her expression shifted, tinged with something shy, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you finish. It was… a little hard to focus when you were—” She bit her lip, cheeks warming.

Arthur tutted softly, his lips curving in a knowing smirk. “Quit all that.” He leaned down, his breath hot against the shell of her ear before capturing it between his teeth, nibbling just enough to make her whimper. “I’d much rather save it for when I’m inside you.”

She stiffened slightly—not out of fear, no, he would have tasted that. This was something else. Excitement. Anticipation. Her heartbeat thundered against her ribs, and she melted as he began to ease his massive body over hers, pressing her back against the smooth, warm stone. The gentle ripples of the water lapped at their waists where their bodies met, a teasing caress against overheated skin.

Arthur could have taken her in the water, let it cradle them as he claimed her completely, but not this time. Not for their first time. No—he needed control. He needed his tail to set the rhythm, to keep her breathless but safe, and he intended to have her screaming his name the moment he sank into her tight, welcoming heat.

And then she opened for him, spreading her legs just enough for the thick length of his bottom cock to glide against her slick folds. Arthur’s breath caught. His muscles locked up. Fuck. He almost feared for her heart—it was beating so frantically, fluttering like a caged bird desperate to take flight.

She needed this just as much as he did.

Arthurs fingers gripped her thighs, thumbs stroking along the sensitive flesh as he positioned himself, savoring the way she trembled for him. His voice was dark, rough, almost a growl as he whispered, “I’m going to fill you up, sweet girl. And I won’t be able to stop.”

Her breath hitched, her thighs twitching around him.

Smirking, Arthur lowered his mouth to her ear, letting his voice wrap around her like silk. “I’m going to watch my cum seep out of that pretty little slit of yours… before I mate you again and again—until each of your holes has tasted me.”

Pupils blown wide, her breath stuttered as she stared down at the thick, throbbing lengths pressed against her. The hunger in her eyes was consuming.

“You’re going to take it, aren’t you?” His grip tightened, grounding them both in the moment. “All of me.”

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, then nodded. But that wasn’t enough. Not for Arthur.

He caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his burning gaze. “I’m asking you,” he rumbled. “Do you need me?”

Her lips parted, breathless, her voice clear and certain. “Yes.”

An invitation. A surrender. A claiming.

Arthur let out a deep, satisfied growl.

And then he feasted.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

That was the hardest I had ever come in my life.

For a moment, my mind felt like it had split in two—fractured beyond recognition. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, hell, I was pretty sure my breathing had stopped entirely. The world ceased to exist, swallowed whole by the tidal wave of pleasure that crashed through me, so powerful, so utterly devastating, I thought I might collapse beneath its weight.

But Arthur caught me.

He held me as if I were something precious, something breakable, his strong arms cradling me against his chest. His hands—so large, so impossibly gentle—stroked slow, soothing circles down my back, his fingers brushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to my forehead. He murmured softly, something I couldn't quite process, not yet, I was too lost in the aftershocks of bliss still pulsing through me.

He gave me time—time to breathe, to come back to myself, to let my thundering heart settle. And then, carefully, knowingly, he eased me down onto the stone beneath us.

The second my back met the warm smooth surface, my body seemed to forget everything—the exhaustion, the overstimulation, the way I'd just touched the divine. Because now, all I could think of was him.

Everything I had been waiting for. Everything we had been building toward.

Our heartbeats pounded in sync, a rhythm thrumming between us, tying us together in ways deeper than touch.

I looked up at him, my pupils blown wide, my vision hazy with lingering pleasure, and all I saw was hunger. The last traces of that familiar ocean blue had all but disappeared, swallowed by the endless black of his pupils, stretched so wide they resembled the full moon hanging heavy in the night sky. It paralyzed me.

He looked otherworldly. Primal. The gills along his neck flared, exhaling hard like he'd just swum leagues without stopping. And that sound—that deep, inhuman noise, something between a growl and a purr—it sent a bolt of heat straight to my core. I'd heard it before, in the rare moments when he had surrendered fully to pleasure—when he came undone, or when I took his cock into my mouth and owned his pleasure.

But this? This was different. This wasn’t just need. 

This was instinct.

And gods, did it make me weak.

Heat flushed through me, thighs trembling as I tried to spread them wider, aching to accommodate the sheer size of him. And for the first time, I really saw him.

Arthur loomed over me, his massive shoulders blocking out the ceiling entirely, muscles rippling with every breath. Somehow, being around him so often had numbed me to the stark reality of our size difference. But looking up at him now, with the full weight of his body braced above mine, the reality sank in.

He was big. So much bigger than I had let myself truly process.

And I wanted him.

The craving cut through me like a blade, sharp and merciless, twined with the faintest whisper of fear—not of him, never that. Every instinct in my body told me I could trust Arthur with my life, with my pleasure, that he would never harm me.

No, what scared me was how badly I wanted him. Like my life had only just begun the moment he drifted into my life. 

It was unnerving, this desperate, gnawing hunger coiling in my gut, the way my body ached for him. I wanted this animal, this gorgeous beast, to fuck me until I was seeing stars. Until my legs shook with the memory of where his cocks had driven me mad with euphoria. Marking me in ways that would tie him to me forever.

Did…did that make me fucked up?

I didn’t care. I loved it.

Arthur took my chin between his fingers, his clawed thumb brushing over my swollen lips, tracing the heat he had left there. His touch was firm, possessive, yet reverent. “I’m asking you,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest, rough and strained, as if he were barely holding himself together. Every fiber of his being was begging him to take me, to claim me—to mate me. But still, he fought against his instincts, grounding himself, waiting.

Waiting for me.

“Do you need me?”

The question was more than a plea. It was a confession—raw, aching, tinged with the kind of desperation that made my chest tighten. He needed to hear it. He needed to be sure. Like some small, fragile part of him feared I would deny him. That I would change my mind.

As if I could.

After everything we’d been through? After the earth-shattering pleasure he had just given me? I was already lost to him, tangled in something deeper than lust. There was no going back.

My breath came fast, my body already writhing with need as I flicked my tongue over the pad of his thumb. A teasing taste. A promise. Arthur mirrored me, his own tongue swiping over his lips, pupils so wide they swallowed the blue whole.

“Yes.”

The second the word left me, Arthur sucked in a sharp breath, his gills flaring as if he could taste my desire in the air. Then came the sound—that deep, primal growl, full of satisfaction and hunger. His thumb left my lips, trailing a slow, tantalizing path down my side, skimming over my ribs before curling around the back of my knee. His grip was firm, his claws grazing my skin just enough to make me shiver as he pushed my legs open. My muscles burned, stretched almost too wide, but I barely felt it.

I was too focused on him.

Arthur watched me, his gaze locked onto my trembling form as he took hold of the cock that had been gliding over my slick folds. The weight of it, the heat, sent another pulse of arousal through me as he positioned the tip at my entrance.

We were half-submerged, our hips still in the water, but it didn’t matter. I was already soaked, and he had never stopped dripping with that intoxicatingly sweet pre-cum.

The moment he pressed the thick head past my entrance, we both froze.

Arthur’s head snapped up, searching my face, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and intense. This was the threshold—the moment of no return. A silent understanding passed between us, a knowing that if we did this, we would be bound to each other in ways that neither of us could ever undo.

I nodded.

Reaching up, I tangled my fingers in the damp strands of hair at the base of his skull, tugging him down into a kiss.

“Yes, Arthur.” Breathing the words against his mouth, reassuring him again for good measure. 

Arthur flexed his hips, sliding in just an inch, and the sensation was like liquid fire pouring through my veins. I gasped into his mouth, my body stretching around him, barely able to take him, and yet desperate for more. He was almost too much—too thick, too long—but the way he filled me was perfect. Devastatingly smooth, gliding deeper without resistance, my body yielding to him like it had been made for this.

Tilting my head back, I groaned as he sank in another inch. Then another. The initial burn melted into something deeper, something hotter, my walls clenching around him, gripping him greedily, urging him to fill the aching emptiness inside me.

Arthur’s tail shifted, and he drew back.

The slow retreat of his cock left a trail of fire in its wake, dragging over every nerve, every oversensitive inch of me. A whimper slipped from my lips at the loss—only for him to roll his hips forward and push deeper.

A choked sound erupted from me, somewhere between a moan and a cry, as Arthur let out a long, guttural groan, his forehead pressing against mine.

Breaking our contact, I looked up at him, drinking in the sight of him above me—his eyes squeezed shut, his brows furrowed, his jaw clenched tight in concentration. His gills fluttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control himself, to hold back.

But I didn’t want him to.

His second cock lay heavy against my clit, the ridges pressed flush against my aching bundle of nerves, sending jolts of sensation sparking through me. It would be my undoing.

But only if he moved. And fuck, I needed him to move.

“Arthur,” I whined, the sound pitiful, dripping with need. My voice was raw, breathless, and desperate.

He groaned, his breath ragged, heavy with restraint. “You feel so good. S-so tight.” His words came out in a rasp, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Please…move,” I whispered, arching toward him, my fingers trembling against his skin.

A wicked thought struck me—what if his kind didn’t move like humans? What if they locked together like some species of fish and that was it? No thrusting, no rolling of hips—just static, leaving me hanging in this unbearable tension.

No. I refused to let that be my fate. I would get my dues on this. 

My back arched off the stone, pressing into him as I rolled my hips, pulling back so he nearly slid free from my body. The sensation sent a shudder through me, a teasing promise of loss that had me aching for more.

Arthur hadn’t stopped me. His fingers dug into my hips, claws pressing just enough to sting, but he didn’t resist. The only sound he made was a soft, broken whimper—like he thought I was pulling away. Like he feared I’d changed my mind.

I shattered that fear in an instant.

Slamming my hips back up into his, I pulled him deep, forcing his cock to fill me again as I clutched at his shoulders and back for leverage. The other cock slid with the movement, dragging against my clit in a way that sent a raw, unfiltered pleasure ripping through my body. The weight of it, the ridges pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves—it was perfect. Maddening. Overwhelming.

A breathy, high-pitched cry broke from my lips.

Arthur’s eyes snapped open. And I saw the moment it clicked.

A growl curled from his throat, deep and predatory, his lip curling in a snarl as his grip tightened on my waist. A sharp, demanding possessiveness flickered across his face before he slammed into me again. 

And again.

And again.

Each thrust was punishing, relentless—his hips snapping forward in a brutal rhythm that had me gasping, keening with every inch that he drove into me. Giving me what I had so desperately needed. The sheer girth of him as he bottomed out, the stretch, the way those ridges caught on every nerve—it was too much and yet not enough. 

It was pushing me toward my limit.

My mouth had never fit around all of him. My fingers could only wrap around the head before the thickness at the base swelled too wide. And yet, my body—desperate, greedy, utterly consumed by him—took him. Wanted him.

Arthur’s pace turned brutal, his hips pistoning into mine, the water sloshing violently around us. The wet, obscene sounds filled the air, mingling with his deep, guttural grunts and the sharp slaps of skin meeting skin. The force of it drove my body into the stone beneath me, every impact sending shocks of pleasure and pain colliding in my core. 

I welcomed it.

The ache, the burn—it only made the pleasure sharper, brighter, until I was unraveling around him again, walls clamping down, squeezing, milking him as I screamed. My nails raked down his spine, dragging over the smooth expanse of his skin as he arched over me, driving himself even deeper.

Nothing had ever felt this real. This right.

“Fuuck—” Arthur cursed, voice wrecked, his control hanging by a thread. Then came my name, raw and guttural, torn from his throat in a deep groan that sent a violent shudder through me. “That’s it. Fuck, baby, that’s it. Oh, you’re so good. S-so fucking good.”

His praise shattered me.

A desperate whimper spilled from my lips, my body already spiraling toward the edge again, the pleasure building too fast, too strong. My muscles tightened, every nerve firing, as he drove into me with merciless, ragged thrusts. The wet, slippery sounds filled the space around us, almost drowning out my sharp, gasping cries.

Arthur didn’t stop. Didn’t slow.

His movements were relentless, pounding into me so hard my tits bounced, my heels scraping against the roughness of his scales as I clung to him. Oh, I was going to be sore after this.

And gods, the thought only excited me more.

Arthur wasn’t just fucking me—he was claiming me. Breeding me with a desperation so fierce it was as if some unseen force was testing him, whispering that if he didn’t do this right, he was a failure. He poured everything into this, into me—each deep, pounding thrust an unspoken vow, each bruising grip a plea and a promise all at once.

I felt him, all of him.

Raw desire clashed with aching longing, a feverish passion stoking the flames of something far more primal. And beneath it all, there was hunger—a possessive, feral hunger that burned through every stroke, every grind of his hips. His claws dug into my flesh, sharp enough to sting, but not enough to break skin. Leaving behind a delicious ache that had me arching into him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice hoarse with lust. His breath was hot against my lips, his words a branding iron against my skin. “This pussy belongs to me.”

A choked gasp escaped me, my walls clenching around his cock in a desperate, involuntary response. He felt it—knew what his words did to me, and kissed me hard, swallowing every whimper, every ragged moan.

“Always,” I rasped, my voice breaking. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “I’m yours, Arthur. Every inch of me.”

Body and soul. I wanted to add, but his lips sealed over mine again. 

Moans left my lips like prayers, my pulse hammering, my heart racing. I was so close, so devastatingly close. The pleasure coiled tight, white-hot and unbearable, clenching around me like a vice. My breath hitched as the pressure built, built, until darkness crept at the edges of my vision, and stars exploded behind my closed eyelids.

The feeling of being so full, so ruthlessly taken, had me spiraling.

“F-fuck, Arthur, I’m—” My voice broke, trembling, whimpering. Some desperate, self-preserving part of me wanted to hold on, to keep teetering on this exquisite edge forever. I wasn’t ready for this to end.

Arthur knew. With a deep, guttural grunt, he pulled out completely, and my body screamed for him.

But he wasted no time.

Rolling his hips, he pushed back inside in a way that was slower, deeper—grinding against that devastating spot inside me. It sent a fresh wave of pleasure tearing through my body, a sensation so intense it nearly had me convulsing beneath him.

He knew I was holding back. And he wouldn’t let me.

Arthur drove me to my limit, stripping away my restraint, my humanity, until all that remained was pure, primal need. My body was his, and gods above—every instinct inside me demanded he make me take all of him. To fill me so completely that the rest of the world fell away, leaving nothing but this moment, this feeling, just him.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he rasped, dragging his tongue in a slow, searing stripe from the hollow of my throat up to my ear. His voice was velvet and gravel, laced with sin, with command.

“Let me feel that perfect pussy milk my cock.”

His command was enough to tip me over the edge. To shatter me.

The moment I obeyed, it stole the very breath from my lungs, wracking my body with a release so intense it bordered on painful pleasure. My limbs trembled, my fingers clinging helplessly to Arthur’s slick skin as wave after relentless wave crashed through me. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and overwhelming, slipping down my cheeks as I gasped his name like a plea, like a prayer.

I’d never felt anything like this before. And gods help me, I knew I would do anything to feel it again.

Arthur had ruined me. Branded himself into my very bones, carved his name into the deepest parts of me. No other man would ever compare, and I hated him for it—hated myself for craving him with a ferocity that bordered on madness.

A rough, guttural groan tore from his throat, his rhythm faltering as his cock thickened, stretching me in a way that sent fresh, electric pleasure sparking through my veins. He buried himself to the hilt, hitting a place so impossibly deep it turned my mind into nothing but white noise.

And then I was gone.

Screaming, sobbing, breaking apart in his arms as I praised his name like he was something holy.

“Fuck!” Arthur roared.

Burying his face into my chest, his body crashed against mine. Every muscle in his frame tensed as he pressed me into the unyielding stone beneath us. He was heavy, overwhelming, his desperate thrusts turning frantic, erratic. His fingers dug into my flesh, as if he could anchor himself—as if he didn’t want to let go.

Then I felt it.

The hot, liquid pulse of his release spilling inside me, filling me, so much more than any human could give. So much that I could feel it slipping out even before he pulled away, mixing with the water around us in delicate, shimmering tendrils—pale and iridescent, like an otherworldly oil slick. It made my pussy clench around him again. 

The sensation of him coming inside me only sent me spiraling further, prolonging my orgasm until I thought I might pass out.

Darkness fluttered at the edges of my vision, my body completely spent, pulsing with an exhaustion that felt almost euphoric.

Arthur pulled out, and I shivered at the loss, an ache curling in my gut that was almost unbearable. He had left me empty—hollowed out, missing something vital. I fought against the daze threatening to consume me, but I was too far gone, too lost in the haze of pleasure and exhaustion.

Distantly, I heard my name. Arthur’s voice, low and hesitant, cutting through the fog. I tried to respond, but my lips wouldn’t move.

I just needed a moment. Just one.

He sat up, easing his weight off my chest, and I sucked in a deep, trembling breath, my body still thrumming with the aftermath of what we’d just done.

"Shit," Arthur breathed, his voice thick with concern. "D-did I hurt you, sweetheart?"

The sudden panic in his tone snapped me back to reality, cutting through the haze of pleasure and exhaustion. I must have taken too long to respond because his grip on me tightened, lifting me with such careful reverence that it made my heart ache. He cradled me against his chest, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cool air around us. The shift in position sent a slow, delicious trickle of heat spilling from between my thighs, a filthy reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me.

His voice rasped against my ear, desperate and pleading. "Say something, please."

I managed a small, breathless laugh. "I'm okay." And I was. More than okay—I was wrecked in the best possible way. "You could never hurt me, Arthur."

The words came out raw, thick with the depth of my emotions. With a trembling hand, I cupped his cheek, fingers stroking through the damp strands of his beard. His eyes softened, relief crashing over his features like a wave before his lips curled into the most breathtaking smile—sated and beautiful.

“That felt like—” I began. 

He pressed his forehead to mine, our breath mingling as he whispered, "Home."

A shiver danced down my spine.

"You felt like home."

Something in my chest cracked open at those words.

We stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, letting our aftershocks fade into slow, tender kisses—featherlight, reverent, addictive. Our noses brushed, soft and teasing, like swans in a gentle courtship dance. The intimacy of it made my heart race in a way that sex alone never could.

Arthur had told me once, in that quiet, broken way of his: My hearts will follow you to the end.

Now, with the way he held me, worshiped me, I understood. This was what he meant. This was his love, laid bare.

"You were so beautiful," he murmured, lips tracing over my temple, my cheek, my jaw. "So perfect. You take me so well, my girl."

His words were honey-thick, dripping into my ears and down my spine, making my thighs clench involuntarily.

Then I felt it. Something hot and heavy twitching against my calf where our bodies curled into each other.

My breath hitched.

Arthur's grip on me tightened, his voice dipping lower, heavier, hungrier.

"But I still need you."

Oh, fuck. He really wasn’t lying when he said both of my holes would taste him. 

I barely had time to process before he was moving again, gripping my hips and flipping me onto my belly, easing me down and pulling my ass up as my bare skin pressed against the smooth stone. Encouraging me to settle onto my knees. 

"Ah—Arthur—"

"Shh," he soothed, running a broad hand over my spine, down to my ass, spreading me apart just enough to make me tremble. A teasing finger glided over that forbidden entrance, now coated in arousal. Dragging it down further he brushed over my achingly sore heat. Spreading his seed around my lips and up between my cheeks. Painting myself in his sticky hot spend.

"I have two," he reminded me, voice a dark promise against my skin. Gently, I heard him shift in the water, adjusting himself. Looking back over my shoulder, I watched. He gripped his thick, swollen cock still dripping with cum. And teased my entrance, the head nudging, demanding.

"And so do you."

Heat flooded through me, anticipation winding me so tight I thought I might snap.

Before doubt could creep in, I already had my answer. "Then you shall have me."

Arthur growled, a sound of pure satisfaction, gripping me like he owned me.

"Good," he purred, lining himself up again. Using the tip of his cock to spread his cum over my ass as it seeped out of my slit.

I froze as a new sensation erupted—sharp, foreign, a mix of lingering pleasure and a stinging ache where he had already claimed me. My hips were lifted above the water now, exposed to the cool air, and though his spend made my skin slick, it wasn’t enough. Not for this. A shiver ran down my spine, part anticipation, part apprehension. I had never taken anyone here before, and I knew if he was too quick, too rough, the pain could overwhelm the pleasure.

“W-wait,” I panted, my breath shaky. “Arthur, stop.”

He stilled immediately. A warm, steady hand smoothed down my spine, grounding me as he leaned in, his chest flush against my back.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low, earnest, full of concern.

I pushed myself upright, twisting slightly to meet his gaze. “Let’s do this in the water,” I murmured. “It’ll be easier, with less gravity and…” I trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. I didn’t want my hesitation to deter him, but I needed him to be gentle.

Arthur’s dark eyes softened with understanding, and he gathered me into his arms without question, guiding us into deeper waters. The moment we sank down far enough that my breasts floated, warmth wrapped around me like a soothing balm, easing the rawness between my thighs.

“And what, my love?” he pressed, his voice a silken promise against my ear. “Tell me what you need.”

His lips found my neck, kissing and nipping gently as his strong hands roamed over my body. His touch was both reverent and possessive, mapping every inch of me as if committing it to memory. I could feel the rapid thrum of his heart against my back, his breaths turning ragged with restraint.

The cool water swirled between my legs, heightening the sensation of where he touched me, dulling the sting and replacing it with something new, something thrilling.

“I need you to go slow,” I whispered, unable to hide the nervous tremor in my voice. “Much slower than before. Is… is that alright with you?”

Arthur exhaled a shuddering breath, his gills fluttering against my ribs. I couldn’t tell if it was from excitement, anticipation, or the sheer effort of holding himself back. His tail coiled around my calf, pulling me closer, holding me steady.

“Yes,” he groaned, the single word dripping with need. “However you wish to have me. I will give it to you.”

His vow sent a molten heat through me, pooling deep in my core. I had imagined this before—anal, double penetration—but I had never trusted someone enough to try it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would happen like this.

With him.

Arthur reached between us, his fingers curling around one of his cocks, guiding it between my thighs while the other pressed insistently against my bottom. With slow, deliberate motions, he rocked his hips, letting them glide back and forth—one thick length sliding over my swollen, aching clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body, while the other traced the valley between my cheeks, teasing the tight entrance with every pass.

A shudder wracked through me, my body caught between tension and longing. Arthur’s grip on my waist tightened, anchoring me against him as his other hand found my breast. His fingers were both firm and gentle, rolling my nipple between them, kneading my flesh in slow, languid strokes. The contrast of sensations had me trembling in his hold.

“Which one do you want first?” he rumbled against my neck, his breath hot against my damp skin.

My breath hitched as I reached behind me, fingers wrapping around the thick cock nestled against my back. I gave it a teasing squeeze, feeling the way it pulsed against my palm.

“This one,” I whispered, my voice husky with desire.

The water rippled around us as a deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled through his chest. “That’s my girl.”

Arthurs grip on me shifted, steady but unrelenting, as he tipped me forward slightly. The water rose up to my chin, forcing me to tilt my head back to keep from sinking beneath the surface. I barely had time to register the change before I felt the blunt tip of him pressing against my entrance, nudging cautiously.

A sharp hiss escaped his gills, a primal sound that sent a delicious shiver through me.

I gasped, letting out a quiet, startled yelp as a new, overwhelming pressure spread through me. I had never been so acutely aware of this part of my body before, of how tight and untouched I was.

A large, webbed hand slipped down my torso, fingers finding my clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles. The pleasure warred with the ache, sending my body into a dizzying spiral of sensation. My muscles instinctively clenched, trying to resist the burn of his thick length pressing deeper, stretching me open with the first inch.

“F-fuck, Arthur,” I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulder. “I—I don’t think I can—”

“You can,” Arthur growled, his voice dark with restraint. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

He sank another inch, and my breath hitched, my mind going blank with the sheer intensity of it. It was too much, not enough, my body on the verge of being split apart yet craving more.

A shaky whine crawled up my throat as I arched back against him, my body struggling between resistance and surrender.

“Hold onto me,” he murmured against my neck, his voice softer now, coaxing.

I reached up, my arms winding around his neck, clinging to him as if he were my only tether to reality. My eyes squeezed shut, my breath coming in shallow, unsteady gasps.

Arthur tutted softly, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “Sweetheart, you gotta relax. Take a deep breath for me.”

His tone was impossibly gentle, melting through my tension like warm honey, making my stomach flip. Gone was the primal, possessive animal that had taken me like a man starved—now, in its place, was something just as powerful but infinitely more tender. A gentle beast, guiding me through the motions, patient and careful as if I were something precious to be unraveled slowly.

I sucked in a deep, shaky breath, willing my body to obey, to loosen its desperate hold on him. But it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Every fiber of me was wound tight, clenching around him, fighting the stretch, even as I tried to surrender. The slippery feel of his cock, gliding with an otherworldly softness, was a small mercy. I was incredibly grateful in that moment that he was not solid like a human.

“Again,” he coaxed, his fingers stroking soothing circles over my hips. Then, in a teasing lilt, he added, “Unless you need me to breathe for you.”

A shiver ran through me at the idea.

His grip tightened slightly, grounding me. “If I push any harder, I’m gonna hurt ya sweetheart. Try to focus your attention here,” he patted the swell of my ass, his touch firm yet affectionate.

“It’s all I can fucking think about!” The words tumbled out in a breathless flurry, and Arthur let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through his chest.

And it—oh fuck—it felt good.

“There you go, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice thick with praise and want. “Fuck, you feel incredible. You’re takin’ me so well.”

He sank another inch, and a shaky gasp left my lips as something in me finally gave way, my muscles easing, accommodating his size. The sharp edge of discomfort dulled into something else—something deeper, heavier.

“D-do that again,” I stammered, breathless.

“Hmm?” He rumbled, his chest still pressed firmly to my back.

“That—that vibration,” I choked out, my head tipping back as he pulled me tighter against him, his cock pressing deeper, rubbing hard against my inner walls.

Arthur’s lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath warm as he cooed, “Oh, I see.”

Suddenly, his purring flared to life, and I cried out as the vibration sent ripples of pleasure through my body. It wasn’t just in his chest—it was everywhere, resonating through me, inside me, making my nerves light up like fireworks. Somehow, I could feel the pulse deep in my core, as if the sensation traveled through the places where I was stretched around him, amplifying every twitch, every shiver. A strangled moan tore from my lips, my body shuddering against his, and I silently cursed him for not doing this earlier. I had never realized just how closely connected those muscles were, how each vibration sent a shockwave straight through me.

Arthur felt me melt beneath the sensation, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, and he took advantage of it—sinking deeper until he bottomed out against my ass.

A sharp gasp echoed through the room, mingling with the deep, guttural groan that rumbled against my neck. “So fucking tight,” he breathed, his voice thick with restraint, with need.

I had always thought anal could be mildly pleasurable, but this—this was something else entirely. I wasn’t just tolerating it. I was enjoying it. No, I was lost in it. If he kept this up—if he pressed inside my pussy too, stretching me so utterly, so completely. I was sure I would come so hard I might fall apart in his arms.

Then Arthur moved—oh, he moved.

Slow, methodical, controlled. Like he was barely holding himself back, honing in on every subtle cue my body gave him. Testing my limits with precision, ensuring there was no pain—only pleasure. He withdrew slowly, the sensation nearly undoing me as he pulled out until just his tip remained. Then, with a firm grip, he slid his other cock between my thighs, positioning me just right.

And then, finally—he sank me back down.

A keening sound wrenched from my throat as he speared me on both cocks, rolling his hips up at the same time, filling me inch by agonizing inch until he was seated deep inside me. It was a stretch unlike anything I had ever felt before, a blissful, unbearable fullness that sent waves of heat rolling through my limbs. My head tipped back against his shoulder, a deep, shuddering moan rising from somewhere in my chest—a sound I hadn't even known I was capable of making.

I felt him everywhere.

I could taste him on my tongue, could feel the ocean in my veins, the tide of his body racing through me like horses galloping through white-capped waves.

I was still sore, my pussy clenching around him as pleasure and pain tangled together, stars dancing across my vision. I tried to adjust, to find some semblance of control, but anyone who’s ever been fucked hard understands the delicious sting of being stretched too soon, too deep, before you’re quite ready. Well, maybe not everyone—but it was true for me. It was a good kind of pain, the kind that made my toes curl, that had my breath stuttering and my fingers digging into his arms, desperate for more.

And with the addition of his second cock, this was the fullest I’d ever been in my life.

I could tell by the way Arthur was shaking, his grip bruising on my hips, that he was just as overwhelmed as I was. That my body, clenching tight around him, was driving him to the edge as surely as he was unraveling me.

“Do you trust me?” The words were rough, bitten out through clenched teeth, barely restrained.

A silly question. Of course I did. More than anything.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips trembling against his jaw. “Always.”

It was a slow glide, so wet and effortless that the friction was almost an afterthought—until he pulled back and slid in again, and I felt every ridge of him, each textured bump dragging against my walls, sending shivers rolling through my spine. I could count them, could map each one with the breathless rhythm of his thrusts. Every slow, deliberate movement stretched me open, coaxing me into surrender until there wasn’t a single trace of discomfort left—only pleasure, slick and consuming.

“Oh, Arthur!” I cried, the sound tumbling from my lips, raw and unfiltered.

There was only pressure now, incredible and unrelenting, filling me so completely that it stole the air from my lungs. From every angle, in every part of me, I felt him—felt the way he claimed me, the way he kissed my soul with every deep, languid stroke.

I wasn’t sure when my head tilted back onto his chest, when my lips parted on a silent moan, but Arthur seized the moment. His mouth was on mine in an instant, devouring, his tongue plunging deep, licking into me with slow, intoxicating strokes. He nipped at my bottom lip, teasing, pulling a whimper from my throat before swallowing it down like he was starved for the taste of me.

“Breathe, my girl,” he commanded, his voice thick with heat. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hot against my lips. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Please,” was all I could manage, a desperate, breathless plea. I needed more. I was teetering on the edge of something earth-shattering, something vast and uncontrollable, and I didn’t know how to fall into it. I only knew that Arthur could take me there.

A low growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my back, and then—fuck—he thrust into me harder. Not as rough as before, but there was force now, a controlled hunger, a restraint that made the ache even sweeter.

I made a sound I had never heard before, something deep and unrestrained, as he gripped my hip and drove into me again. His tail coiled around my calf, tightening possessively, anchoring me to him.

Hard. Harder. Deep and devastating as he bottomed out inside me again and again.

Arthur pressed a broad, calloused hand to my belly, his webbed fingers splaying wide as he felt himself move inside me, as if mesmerized by the way my body took him in. His breath came out in ragged, shuddering pants, hot against my neck, before his sharp teeth grazed my skin, nipping, teasing.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard,” he growled, his voice rough, nearly broken. “You’re—fuck, you’re everything to me.”

“I’m s-so close. Please, come with me, Arthur,” I choked out, my fingers digging into his arms, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

A low, pained whimper crawled up his throat as he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his whole body trembling with the force of his restraint. “I know, pretty girl, I know,” he rasped, his voice frayed at the edges. “Just a little more. I—I don’t wanna hurt you. It’s—h-hard not to lose control when you’re squeezin’ me like that.”

I gasped as he rolled his hips again, deeper, slower, torturing us both.

His pace faltered as my body reacted to his words—the sincerity, the raw, aching need woven into every syllable. The guttural rasp of his voice, thick with strain and barely restrained hunger, sent a wave of pleasure coursing through me. It tore through my veins, white-hot and all-consuming, until I shattered around him. My vision blurred, my body trembling as pleasure surged like wildfire, licking at every nerve, setting me ablaze.

Somewhere in the haze, I felt him follow me over the edge.

Arthur let out a broken string of curses, his breath ragged and desperate against my shoulder. His entire body quivered, his muscles rigid as he fought the primal instinct to lose himself completely—to rut into me with reckless abandon, to bury himself as deep as I could take and spill every drop of his pleasure inside me.

“Th-then lose control,” I whispered, my voice trembling, a plea wrapped in a breathy moan. My fingers dug into his arms, nails dragging down the hard lines of his body. “Bite me, Arthur. M-mark me as—as yours.”

His breath hitched. “What?”

“S’okay, honey,” I murmured, my voice dripping with something sweet and sinful. “Just let go. I can take it. Give yourself to me.”

A sharp, tortured cry ripped from Arthur’s throat, his entire body shuddering against mine. And then—I felt it.

His teeth, sinking deep into the muscle of my shoulder, sharp and unyielding, branding me with his need. The sting of pain bled into pleasure so sharp it stole the breath from my lungs. My body clenched around him, gripping him like I never wanted to let go, and the mix of sensations sent me spiraling into oblivion.

The warmth of him filled me, deep and hot, as his release spilled into me, claiming me in every way possible. The sheer force of it ripped another scream from my lips, his name tumbling from my throat until it was raw.

I was drowning in him—his touch, his breath, the way he trembled against me as he came undone. And I had never felt more owned by him than I did at that moment.

My mate. My Arthur.

Arthur soothed the ache with his tongue, spreading that thick, healing mucilage over the wound as he lapped up the blood before it could trail too far down my arm. I sagged against his chest, eyes fluttering shut, my cheek pressed to his warm skin as the last of my tears dried. My body still pulsed with aftershocks, every nerve alight, and I felt the slow retreat of his cocks, softening as they slipped from me. Arthur’s tail trembled against my leg, his muscles taut with the lingering overstimulation, as if the pleasure had unraveled him just as much as it had me.

Turning me in his arms, Arthur held me close. His touch was unbearably soft in the wake of everything we’d just done. His lips followed the damp trail of my tears, kissing them away one by one as if he could erase the overwhelming pleasure, the raw emotion, the sheer intensity of it all with his mouth alone. His hands, rough and warm, cradled my face, fingers stroking over my cheeks with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his southern drawl thick and deep. “You alright?”

I nodded weakly, still floating in that hazy space between pleasure and exhaustion. My limbs felt boneless, my body buzzing, hypersensitive to every little touch. Arthur hummed in satisfaction, shifting us until I was nestled against him, my legs draped around his torso. His tail curled loosely around my ankle, still trembling from the aftershocks.

“Y’were so good for me,” he praised, brushing his lips over my temple. “Took me so damn well. My strong, beautiful girl.”

A small sound caught in my throat, something between a sigh and a whimper. Arthur’s chest rumbled with a deep, satisfied purr, the sound vibrating through me, comforting and grounding. He cupped the back of my head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder as his other hand traced soothing circles along my spine.

“Still with me?” he teased gently, though I could hear the genuine concern laced in his tone.

I gave a breathless laugh, weak but real. “Mmhmm… just—floating.”

Arthur’s smile pressed against my hair. “Yeah? Think you can handle another.” 

The teasing lilt in his voice let me know he wasn't serious. Though I don’t think he could survive another round even if he tried. Laughter bubbled up despite my exhaustion. I shook my head, too content, too warm, too wrapped up in him to move just yet. He seemed to understand, settling us deeper into the nest of his arms, letting me bask in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

For a while, we just stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet. Arthur floated on his back as I rested on his chest. His fingers wove through my hair, his breathing steady, grounding me in a way that nothing else ever had.

Eventually, he broke the silence, voice low and reverent. “Ain’t never had nothin’ like this,” he admitted, almost to himself. “Never wanted someone so bad. Needed someone like—like the world was just beginnin’ to make sense. You know?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, pressing a slow kiss to his collarbone. “I feel the same way, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a shuddering breath, his arms tightening around me. “All mine,” he murmured, lips brushing against my hair.

I smiled against his skin. “All yours.”

As sleep began to pull me under, wrapped in his warmth, I had no regrets. 

I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

AN: Did we survive?! Because there were times I feared that beautiful creature was going to kill us with those cocks, not that I'm complaining. Woof, this chapter was such a horny beast and I don't even feel like I've tamed it. There will be more smut chapters, but nothing this lengthy. This was basically a cluster fuck of exploring kinks. And for whatever reason, I really wanted to put it all in one chapter. I love torturing myself. Anyways, its time to get back to the plot! Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and support!!

[ameliathornromance]

Cage Fighter! Orc x Reader : Chapter 1

A/N: Here's chapter 1! It's much shorter than I anticipated, but I'm trying to cut down on my word count to make my work more online reading friendly. However, if you guys would like longer posts please let me know!

Also a note for my Tumblr followers, I've decided that all my series content will be released for free on my Patreon! So if you'd like to follow the progression of this story go and sign up for free!

This post will be released to the public on the 27/2 at 9AM.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

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From the first time that Rok had taken you out to that Ramen shop, it became a routine that after every fight he was in, he would take you out to eat dinner with him.

“You don’t have to take me out every night, you know that, right?” You had asked after the seventh dinner that week.

“Yeah.” Rok said, as he handed some bills over to the chef behind the ramen counter. “But I enjoy being able to talk to you outside of the Doctor’s office. You’re always so serious when you’re in there, it’s nice to see you relaxed.” He’d smiled at you, his eye still bruising from that evening’s fight.

Speaking of your… ‘work’, when it came time for you to fulfil your contract, you always treated the fighters curtly and coldly.

You acted like you and Rok had no other connection beyond your jobs in front of the event organisers, too. While there was no explicit rule that stopped you two from meeting and seeing each other outside of this setting, neither of you wished to incur the wrath of your employer.

You arrived at the abandoned car park, holding your duffle bag full of medical tools, cleaning liquids, bandages and other medical supplies that would need for the evening. Before you could even put your hand on the door handle to the stairs, the Doorman accosted you.

A yelp of surprise escaped you as he yanked you by the arm. “Come here,” he demanded. “Don’t go through that way. We can’t have the spectators see you.”

“But I always enter this way,” you said, irritably.

“Well, from now on, you’re going in through this way.” The Doorman let go of your wrist and beckoned you to follow him.

Massaging your arm, you followed him. He guided you to an office, a flickering florescent light hanging above the security TV humming on the dusty desk. On its display showed the carpark, event guests exiting big black cars and talking amongst themselves as if they were about to go in and see a live concert.

You didn’t get time to watch it for long as the Doorman unlocked a door at the back of the office and pushed it open. You followed him inside, and down a dark long corridor, twisting and turning around corners, before finally seeing your familiar office door.

“All this just to get back to my office?” You asked him. The Doorman said nothing as he unlocked your office door and allowed it to swing open.

“We’ve had a few problems with security lately.” The Doorman said with a shrug. “You’re better off not asking too many questions.”

A chill went down your spine. He was right. The less you know about why they had to change your route, the better. As you set your duffle bag down on the old examination bed, the Doorman added, “you’ll be keeping an eye on both our fighters tonight. Because of the security, we’ve had to sack the other Doctor we had.”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you whipped around to face him. “Seriously?” You groaned, putting your head in your hand.

One patient was more than enough to keep your hands full. Because these weren’t exactly amicable fights, fair and square or scripted like the ones you see on TV, that was going to make your life a lot more difficult.

[lifeofaninstigator]

Alfons' words encouraged him. It helped to know his friend didn't mind helping him out. That was the most important part. Ed didn't want Alfons to feel he was wasting his time with this. "I really appreciate the help, and the time you're willing to give this. I know you're busy with your own work." And Ed intended to be mindful of that. He wouldn't ask Alfons to give too much of his time but spread it out to something more reasonable.

Ed nodded. "Sounds good to me. I think it's best if we start with the basics. I can show you some arrays and what they're used for." He pushed some of them until he had them arranged the way he wanted. It would be hard to give Alfons a crash course in alchemy considering how many years he had dedicated himself to the study of it. But he would do his best to explain everything as clearly as possible. They would need to start off slow, and he would need to give Alfons time to ask questions. Ed was certain he would have a lot of them by the end of tonight.

It helped that Alfons had a good grasp of science as a whole. Alchemy was its own type of science, but it did follow some similar rules and principals. He just needed to get his thoughts in order and figure out the best way to dive into all of this without leaving too many questions unanswered. Ed waited for them to both get settled in. He wanted to make sure Alfons was ready to do this while giving his friend time to take all of this in. It would look daunting to someone who didn't understand the words or arrays on the pages.

He smiled when Alfons uttered the word Amestrian. "I would offer to teach it to you, but that would probably take more time than we have. So it seems better to translate it for you, though if you're interested, I could teach it to you." It would be nice to have someone else in this world who knew how to speak his language. Ed had a real learning curve picking up the language in this world. Fortunately, he was able to learn it faster than he had anticipated.

"Thanks for trying at least. I know how it must sound to you, and how unreal it seems. If someone had come to my world and told me they were from another world, I would've had a hard time believing them too, but here I am, far away from a place I called home, starting from scratch to make it in a world that frankly feels like it's falling a part right now." They didn't talk much about the war, and it wasn't as if there hadn't been wars in his world. But this was something different. The whole world seemed like it was at war here.

Ed didn't want to stick around for any longer than he had to. Not with the ways things were going here. Not with his brother so far away from him. Despite how much he had come to care for Alfons, Ed knew he didn't belong here. And the last thing he wanted was to get pulled into a war as a soldier. That had been one of his biggest fears since he came here and figured out what was going on. But he kept those thoughts to himself. Somehow Ed knew that saying those things would only hurt Alfons.

He watched as Alfons looked over the arrays he had laid out. Ed could see the curiosity in Alfons' eyes over them. Good. He wanted Alfons to be curious about it. It would make their research go more smoothly. Ed grinned when Alfons pointed to one of them. That was an easy enough array to explain, a good starting point. "This one creates a basic figure out of dirt or clay." He turned the paper a bit. "See how these lines intersect with the circle. They're responsible for what form you want to make. If you change the line here just a bit, it will make something different."

This was going to be the hard part. Explaining these things without being able to show Alfons the final product. It would have been so much easier to explain if he could show Alfons exactly how alchemy worked, but since he couldn't he would have to settle for explaining it the best he could. "As it is, it would create a small dragon figurine. It was one of the first things I learned to make from alchemy when I was a kid."

Alfons gave him a good-natured shrug and a small smile. "It's alright. I have some free time the next few days, and it's been a while since we researched something together." And he did genuinely enjoy working and researching with Ed. Granted, he'd had a better understanding of what they had been looking for during previous projects, but there was something about the importance this particular subject held for Ed that drew his precarious curiosity.

Though judging from the amount of material Ed had set down, he was going to need more than a little curiosity to get through it all. It was going to require a long-term dedication that he'd have to put real time and effort into. Probably not as in-depth as his work with the rocket, but considering there would be that much to learn and he was starting from scratch, there was a distinct possibility that it could become a close second.

But if Ed was ready to begin, then so was he. He'd plunge in head-on and put his uncertainty on hold. If he was going to do this right, he would have to at least try to do that. So he gave a decisive nod, a simple first step in the crash course for something only a few hours ago he would have dismissed as nothing more than an ancient pseudoscience. "Alright," he agreed. "We'll start from the beginning and keep going as long as it takes to get through everything." He wasn't quite ready to believe in it, but he would have to treat it as if he did if he wanted to try to fully comprehend what he was studying.

And considering he couldn't make out a single word or interpret any diagram in the notebook he was flipping though, it was undoubtedly going to require that kind of attention. Alfons stared back at Ed when he confirmed that what he was looking at really was the language only Ed knew. "Amestrian..." he mused softly to himself as he glanced back down at the page. Even knowing what it was didn't make it any clearer, though if it really was what his roommate said it was, of course there was no way that he'd have been exposed to anything like it.

He raised his eyes back toward his roommate again when Ed reiterated what this was and what it really meant. Studying his face, Alfons couldn't see a trace of insincerity or deception. Ed really meant every word he said. And if he'd never shown this notes to anyone else, that meant that he was trusting Alfons with a part of himself that he kept closely guarded and that he was taking a real risk revealing any of this at all.

Alfons took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he closed the notebook and set it back down on the top of the box, straightening up to meet his roommate's eye. He could clearly see that need for belief reflected in golden eyes, how important it was to him for Alfons to truly know this was real, and though it still seemed impossible, that shadow of uncertainty in the face of the mysterious language hadn't faded, and coupled with the sincerity he saw in Ed's face, he couldn't deny that tiny seed of doubt in his own conviction planted in the back of his mind.

"I'll try," he finally agreed softly. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, somewhere between an intention of reassuring Ed and a slight confusion that he was actually willingly going through with trying to accept something that could completely break his own established view of reality. "I won't be able to fully dedicate myself to understanding what you're trying to teach me if I don't at least try to keep an open mind," he relented. "It is strange, but if that's what I need to do if we're going to properly research this together, I'll do the best I can."

With one last glance down at the box, he stepped over to the table and pulled out the chair next to Ed's to sit down beside him. Blue eyes flicked between the arrays his roommate had laid out and Ed's face as Alfons tried to reassure himself that this was actually going to work. Well, they'd already gotten his far, so the only reasonable choice was to continue moving forward. So he pointed to the array drawn on the sheet of paper closest to where he sat and asked, "So what does this one mean?"

[dapper-nahrwhale]

Hmmm. Having a predicament and I am curious to see what I should do cuz like:

So one of my players will not be available to play in the next session of our fairy tale ttrpg game. Not a big problem, but we have had this planned for weeks as it was one of the only times all 6 people are avalible to play. Now, we could just catch them up later.

But last session I thought it was about time to reveal some big plot things to the players (ie their world is not real, they are characters in a book, the world has just been destroyed and now they have to figure out what to do next as a group, they believe everyone they know to be dead, they arent but they dont know that yet, there are wars going on abt things they dont even know abt yet). And we couldn't play the week after the big stuff, so now we can finally play.

But I dont want to leave anyone out of these big things, as I am going to be revealing even more stuff abt how the world works now and going thru some individual character story arcs with them. I could just put off doing those things till later, not that big a problem usually. But I have also been doing that since the very first session.

And also everyone is really really eager and wanting to play again, and this is not the first time someone has had to miss a game, actually we havent had all 6 players there for a session together since the first one, and that was 5 months ago. Every other time I put off revealing the big things, but now I already did, and cant really put any more filler in it for them (and last session when the world got destroyed, I had anticipated all players to be there, and 2 couldn't make it at the last minute and I went through with my plans anyways, and caught up the others later in individual sessions. And that worked out well enough, it was just alot to do, and now that things are more serious I anticipate ill be doing that for everyone who misses a session, because things are going to be moving at a much faster pace now.)

And I am also very very tired of planning out things for them, and then having half the players be there, and having to come up with new things and not being able to continue or create any bigger plot points, and now seeing as we are in the bigger plot things going on, I kinda really would like everyone to be there from now on. But also. I do not anticipate being able to get everyone there for any session, as it has been an impossible feat for the entire campaign.

I AM going to be consulting with the group to see what they would like to do as a whole, but you know. I am curious to see what other people would do tbh.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[comatosebunny09]

vēnor | sylus

— summary: sylus must’ve gleaned all the info he needed during your exchange and dipped. figures. you’ve played your role well, and it seems he no longer requires your services. unbeknownst to you, crimson eyes narrow in the lowlight, watching the elevator doors swish shut as your target has his way with you. — cw: female reader, marking, biting, unprotected intercourse, creampie, rough sex, size kink, praise kink, cevix f-king, explicit language, jealousy, knife fight, alcohol use, mentions of blood and viscera, self-indulgent, not proofread, mdni — wc: ~4k — notes: you can prolly tell i was inspired by his new secret times, *fans self* thank you for reading, lovely! — now playing: wasted eyes - amaarae u, lost - jeremy pope

Your mission is simple.

Saunter in. Seduce your target. Extract as much information as you can concerning the whereabouts of a particular artifact. Smile pretty. Flutter your lashes. Lure him away with the promise of pleasure. Snuff him out like a candle’s flame when the moment allows.

The setup is flawless. Routine. Until it isn’t. 

The figure clad in black, oozing smugness and sex appeal beside you, complicates things. 

Typically, you complete your missions alone. You’ve played the role of seductress so long that it’s second nature. You’re more than capable of fending for yourself if shit hits the fan. You’re a menace with a blade and just as formidable without one. 

Besides, you live for the thrill of a good fight. A few bruises and broken bones have never deterred you. According to your intel, your target came stacked with security, so you anticipate possibly getting your hands dirty. 

But he insisted on accompanying you this time around—Sylus. Reasoned he didn’t want his diamond falling into the wrong hands, whatever the hell that meant. You figure it was an excuse to micromanage you. He’d been doing it a lot lately, ever-looming like a shadow, trained to your every move. 

So, here you are—standing beside your employer as the elevator lazily descends, fretting over your hair and the occasional slip of your blouse off your shoulder. 

You’re enveloped in an unbearably tense silence. Shift your weight between your feet, trying to keep your gaze on the gilded elevator doors ahead. Even that is a task within itself, scarlet eyes occasionally capturing yours in your reflection, coupled with an omniscient smirk that causes your chest and cheeks to swell with heat.

He stands in good form beside you, hand stuffed in his pocket, hair coiffed, dressed to the nines. He’s infuriatingly calm in contrast to the maelstrom brewing inside you. 

You feel much like a child about to perform at a piano recital in front of their parents for the first time. Insane, given you’ve never been this anxious around him before. But things are…

Well, things are different now.  

Lately, your relationship with your boss has shifted on its axis, making way for tender words and disarming touches where there were once indifferent looks and tedious banter. 

You’re not entirely sure when, but at some point under his tutelage, you’ve developed a fondness for him. A part of you wonders if he feels the same pull, his recent treatment towards you slowly dismantling that carefully constructed wall between you.

The elevator pings and dips, disrupting your thoughts once it reaches its destination. 

You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Square your shoulders, mentally preparing yourself for your mission. The doors slide open, a crisp breeze fanning over your inflamed skin, ruffling your floor-length skirt. You move to dismount the lift, but slender fingers encircling your wrist halt your exit. 

They’re like a brand on your skin, searing straight to your heart. You’re stock-still as Sylus nears you, swaddling you in the warmth and enthralling scent of scorched cedarwood and cracked vanilla beans he carries. He rounds you, the tips of his shoes staining your vision. You’re wordless as worn fingertips graze your temple, sweeping errant curls behind your ear.

He chuckles something low, his other set of fingers easing beneath your chin to tilt your head back. Your breath corks in your lungs when your gazes interlock.

It’s like he’s peering into your soul, the way he studies you with a reverent shine to his eyes despite the ever-present smirk twitching his lips. You swallow thickly past the barbs in your throat. Enraptured by his gaze, you hardly notice him pushing something into your ear. Not until a sharp pitch of feedback causes you to wince until it levels out.

“Stunning,” he lauds, brushing the flat of his nails over your earpiece, outlining the curve of your cartilage. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You vibrate internally from the praise. He smooths back your hair, ghosting over your neck and shoulder. Slides a thumb over the space just shy of your bottom lip, and he tracks its movement, irises darkening into a mysterious shade of garnet. 

You’re wearing his favorite color of lipstick–a dangerous shade of rouge reminiscent of wine shared over passionate nights. Your stomach pinches with something foreign. For a moment, your surroundings fall away, and only the pair of you exist in this world of pheromones and shrouded intentions. 

Briefly, you entertain the thought of conquering the gap between you. Entertain grabbing his shirt and tugging him into a kiss. Based on the flutter of his lashes as he studies your mouth, you don’t think he would be opposed to it. 

But fate has other plans for you tonight, another invasive ding from the elevator disrupting your reprieve. 

So caught up in your own little world, you hadn’t noticed that the doors closed in your idleness until someone outside called for the lift. 

“Oh shit! My bad,” says a sheepish voice from the hallway. With Sylus’ fingers still curved around your chin, the pair of you look at the intruder outside, Sylus’ expression reading annoyance, and yours, dreaminess. 

—

It helps that you’ve already had a drink—a glass of bourbon in your hotel room to take the edge off, loosening your inhibitions.

The music is good, too. Something sultry and ambient as you wend through the envious gazes and intrigued whispering of the bar’s other patrons in pursuit of your target. 

You feel his eyes on you, too. A familiar wash of scarlet trained on the space between your shoulder blades and the sway of your hips. The notion of him watching you so intensely sets your insides alight. 

You banish the memories of his breath on your skin—of his ghostly touches along your flesh—to the furthest reaches of your mind. It’s showtime. You’ll have plenty of time to confront these complicated feelings for your boss later. 

For now, you home in on your target. He’s dressed in something tailored and expensive, the material of his suit crisp as you slide a hand over his shoulder with a sultry smile rounding your lips. 

The gentleman looks up from the whiskey glass in his hands. Dons a smile of his own, straightening when you pour yourself onto the stool beside him. He signals to the bartender, then turns to face you, skimming over your visage with his brows lifted in intrigue. 

“Well now. What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all by yourself?” he queries, tone murky like the liquor in his glass. 

You tilt your head, your hair falling over your features just right. Cross your legs, offering him your hand to kiss. Your voice is husky. Disarming as you counter, “Handsome fella like you looked like you could use some company.” 

He drags his lips over the notches and grooves of your knuckles, whiskey-colored eyes fastened to you. Smiling, you pluck his glass from betwixt his fingers. Throw back what remains in it, the acrid sting warming your innards whilst you set it down on the sticky counter with a definitive clack.

The man whistles, clearly impressed. “Pretty and a drinker. I like you already.”

You laugh something rehearsed. Toy with the red-gemmed pendant between your collarbones. He’s charming. Good-looking. Maybe you’ll have a little fun before you take his life. You haven’t had your desires sated in a while, too busy tamping down your own needs for the love of your boss.

On cue, scarlet twinkles in your periphery. Sylus. He’s seated not too far off, nursing a glass of something viscous. Quietly biding his time, poised to step in if he deems it necessary. A part of you is spurred on by his attention. You play up the theatrics of your flirtations if only to get a rise out of him.

It’s relatively easy to fall into femme fatale mode thereafter. You chat up your target, inquiring about his profession and complimenting his taste in liquor, guided by Sylus via earpiece. 

You don’t miss the vexed clip in your boss’ voice whenever you get a little too handsy, laugh a little too bewitchingly, and bite back a smile at how envious he sounds in your ear. The gentleman is putty in your hands, a grinning, chuckling fool when you squeeze his thigh and stroke his ego. 

You pull out all the stops, feeding him alcohol until he’s red-faced with a loosened tongue, unwittingly spewing out the information you seek. He touches you as the night blurs, worn fingers smoothing over your thighs, cresting down the slope of your arm, brushing your cheek, dragging over your shoulder. 

You let him have his fill. It’s not like you aren’t enjoying yourself, too, the alcohol warming in your veins, heightening your need for physical stimulation. 

Finally, you sweep in for the kill. Angle yourself closer to your prey, your breasts pressing temptingly against his arm whilst your hands roost on his quad.

“Wanna take this party elsewhere?” you whisper, brushing the outer shell of his ear with your lips. He chuckles like the enamored fool you molded him into, dragging his mouth across your cheek in a kiss as you pull back.

“Got a room upstairs,” he husks in what little space dwells between your faces. “We could have some real fun there.”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

He takes your hand in his, drawing you from the stool. Twirls you ‘round to get a good look at you, the dangerous contours of your body accentuated by your outfit. 

Your target clicks his tongue, inwardly patting himself on the back for bagging such a beauty. He guides you through the crowd towards the elevator. And as he whisks you away, you survey your surroundings in search of a familiar shock of white. 

Disappointment spumes through you when you don’t find him through the bar's furling smoke and sultry lighting. He must’ve gleaned all the info he needed during your exchange and dipped. Figures. You’ve played your role well, and it seems he no longer requires your services for the time being. 

Where before, you felt guilty for seeking a little fun, the feeling sloughs off, replaced by disdain and spite spooling in your gut.

Your target draws you to him by your waist as the elevator doors slide shut, the pair of you flanked by two of his bodyguards. You succumb to his ministrations, his lips on a shameless excursion over your throat, drawing the sultriest little laugh from betwixt your lips. 

Unbeknownst to you, crimson eyes narrow in the lowlight, watching the elevator doors swish shut.

—

The hallway of the sixth floor is barren. Eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights above dancing over four figures moving over the carpeted floors. 

You toddle behind your prey, guided by interlaced fingers, swathed in the imposing aura of his bodyguards on either side of you. You feel for the blades cinched to your thigh, tucked beneath the veil of your skirt. Easing one from your garter belt, you conceal the knife in your palm, and the guards seem none-the-wiser.

Suddenly, muffled sounds erupt on either side of you. You glance back, alarmed to see the bodyguards wiped from existence. The only clue revealing their fate is a familiar, wispy coil of dark red left in their place. You narrow your eyes, jaw set in a rigid line. 

Sylus. 

Your target seems undeterred, continuing to prattle on ahead as he herds you to his room. Sylus must’ve assumed you couldn’t handle your own, which makes you buzz with irritation. 

Fine. He thinks you’re incapable? You’ll prove him wrong. 

With the blade held firm between your forefingers, you prepare to thrust it into your target’s neck. So much for having a bit of fun.

However, before you can complete the thought, something ensnares your wrist, snatching you from the hallway into the arms of an inky darkness. Your spine collides with something rigid and cold, the air siphoned from your lungs.

Your fight or flight senses kick into overdrive, and with the moonlight highlighting your assailant's silhouette, you swing your blade where you assume their head is. They release a brief sound of exertion, ducking beneath your attack. You cleave through the air again, coupling the swing with a series of kicks to put some space between you and land a hit. 

Your aggressor, seemingly familiar with your move set, catches your ankle, shoving it down to derail your attacks, and a dark chuckle vibrates the air. 

“That all you got?” they provoke, the timbre of their voice reminiscent of thunder rolling over the horizon.

You stumble back a few paces, righting yourself before charging with another slew of punches, swipes, and kicks. It’s a futile endeavor, scuffling in low visibility like this against an opponent who seems to be using the darkness to their advantage.

But you’ll be damned if you go down without a fight.

“Too slow,” tsks your foe, egging you on.

Suddenly, your attacker traps your hand clutching the blade, and you dumbly blink as they use your momentum to swing you ‘round, manacling both your wrists together at the small of your back. Your cheek squished against a glacial surface, your assailant shoves their weight against you, trapping you between a wall and the hardened slope of their body. 

Faint wisps of vanilla invade your scenes, yet the hot rush of adrenaline seeping through you blots out all logic and reason. You struggle against their hold, your labored breaths intermingling with their husky laughter. 

You grit your teeth when a hand eases down the curve of your hip, sliding over your thigh with practiced ease. You grit your teeth against the feel of it as it dips beneath your skirt’s slit to tug your remaining knives free of your garter belt.

You listen with pinched breaths as the crisp steel plunges into a far-off surface. How the hell did they know where you kept your knives?

In a ditch effort to free yourself, you thrust your hips back, momentarily throwing your attacker off-kilter. Their grip on your wrists slackens, and you spin around, planting your foot against their chest to create some distance. Twirling your knife, you thrust it towards the outline of a neck. It’s to no avail, those searing fingers once again taking possession of your wrist before you can land a blow. 

You release a frustrated cry, your hand twisting painfully until the blade plummets to the ground, sinking into the floor with a resounding thwack! Employing your other hand, you try to pry your wrist free, aiming an onslaught of kicks at your aggressor’s ribs. They effortlessly block them with the hard edge of their forearm, and your moot efforts seem to amuse them further. 

The severity of your situation settling in, soft light suddenly floods the narrow space, pouring down from overhead to reveal the contours of a familiar face.

“Sylus?” you gasp, bleary-eyed and chest heaving.

He uses your surprise to his advantage, surging forward to capture your lips. The air punched from your lungs, you trade your alarm for a bitten-off moan, fingers instinctively seeking out the silken glide of his hair. 

He pushes his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth, swallowing your groans whilst his hands make frantic expeditions over your sides, bunching up your blouse and skirt in pursuit of the supple glide of your skin. 

Fingers curl around your thighs where they pinch and knead the flesh there, Sylus notching himself between your legs. And fuck, he’s hard, your scuffle awakening things in him he thought himself dead to.

He lifts you into his arms, and your legs intuitively wind about his waist. The hotel door rattles behind you when he slams you against it, his hands greedily sprawling over your body, burning through the layers of your skin.

“What the fuck,” you breathe when he releases your mouth, and you crane your neck to the side, granting him more access whilst he brands your throat with the languid drag of his lips. 

He nips and sucks in a way that borders pain, his breaths sweltering and ragged, matching the roll of his hips. The rough stitching of his slacks acquaints itself with your center, and you sigh all hot and wanton, your spine scrubbing against the door whilst he grinds into you.

“Did you really think I’d let him have his way with you?” he pants through the lust-ladened haze, dragging his lips over your shoulder and collarbones, down to the ample swell of your breasts. He rakes his teeth over the skin there, sure to leave pretty blooms of purple and blue in their wake.

You huff a laugh, the back of your head colliding with the door. “Oh, Sylus. Don’t tell me you were jealous.” 

Of course, you were banking on it, playing your role too well. 

You yip when he bites you in warning, the predatory gleam of his eyes trained on your face. “How could I be jealous if you’re already mine?”

You scoff at that, a wave of ecstasy surging through you when his fingers ease between your thighs, grazing your labia, rucking your panties to one side to reveal your own desire. Your back bows when he prods your puckering sex with two fingers, and he chuckles against your neck, the sound of it making your pussy flutter with excitement.

“Seems I’m not the only one affected by our little spat.” With a few more strokes up the span of your cunt, he sinks his digits inside you, and you share a pleased exhale as you greedily suck him in down to the hilt. 

“Look at you. So ready for me. And to think you were so eager to give this away to another man.”

“Do you always talk this much,” you breathe, draping your arms around his shoulders. Screw your eyes shut, humping against his fingers, chasing that sweet coiling sensation building in your tummy.

“Are you always this impatient,” counters Sylus, open-mouthed against your chin, his thumb sifting through the thick folds of your sex in search of your clit. He presses down, and you shudder, the sound of his name curling around your tongue, making his dick jump.

“Only with you. Unh, fuck. Just with—just with you.”

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps into the hollow of your neck. Scissors his fingers inside you, slowly unraveling those bundles of nerves inside, the vulgar squelch of your cunt intermingling with your labored breaths. “Beg me to fuck you, or I’ll stop.”

To punctuate his words, he slows the pleasurable drag of his fingers, and you whine, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. 

The heat of embarrassment washes over you. You’re too far gone to care. Too enraptured to give a damn about your facade or pride. Need him inside you, otherwise, you might just die.

“Your words, sweetheart. Use them,” he coaxes on a rasp.

“Fuck me,” you relent, baring down on his digits curling inside you. “Fuck me, Sylus, please.”

“Good girl,” he praises, already freeing himself from the restrictive pull of his slacks and briefs. 

You’ve no time to admire his size in the dimness. Too clouded by lust, your eyes fixated on his while he rubs the swollen head against the seam of your pussy. He prods your sticky opening, and your mouth waters with anticipation, the sheer size of his head alone enough to stretch you nice and open for him.

“Deep breaths, darling,” he coos against your hinged-open mouth. And your thighs crater between his fingers as he sinks you onto his cock, the strain of pushing into you stealing the air from his chest. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You’re halfway sobbing, gritting your teeth, your fingers buried in the collar of his shirt, and your face falls into the crook of his shoulder, where you bite and suck, seeking a little respite from the painful stretch. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Breathe for me.” He isn’t intentionally being pompous. Knows he’s thicker than the average bear, and as much as he burns to be buried inside you, he doesn’t want to hurt you more than necessary.

Soon, the pain subsides, making way for little flutters of pleasure when he’s fully eased home, his swollen cockhead kissing your cervix. When he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his girth, he fucks into you with shallow thrusts at first, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. 

Despite the moment, he’s a patient lover. Taking his time moving inside you, invoking pretty sounds from your lips. A thick ring of cream forms around the base of his cock as he ruts into you, your intermingled fluids scorching down the inner cut of your thigh. 

As time passes, your moans crescendo, spurring him on, and he fucks into you a little harder, your nails forming angry crescents in his traps through the fabric of his shirt. One of your heels falls off and clatters against the floor, he’s fucking you so good. So deep, battering against your cervix.

“You take me so well, sweetheart,” he dotes into the junction of your neck and shoulder, bouncing you on his cock a little faster. “So deep. It’s like you were made to be my precious little cock sleeve.”

You can do nothing but gasp at the delicious friction, blanketed in the throes of passion, in the feel of him nestled deep inside you, filling you to the brim. 

You feel like you’re in a dream, being fucked by your boss like this. The object of your desires, the focal point of your fantasies and affections. Your clit scrubs against his pelvic bone with each thrust, and that sparkling rush of ecstasy begins to bloom in your tummy.

“Gonna cum?” he husks, your walls clenching around him.

You nod, your voice lodged in your throat, and you tangle your fingers in the delicate sweep of hair at his nape, pulling him in for a kiss, pouring every pent-up feeling into the warm chasm of his mouth. 

Spurred by the delicious drag of his cock inside you, by his tongue licking into your mouth, and by your puckered nipples grazing against the hardened lines of his shirt, you cum. God, you cum.

And the world slides into white, your mouth opening with a moan seemingly dragged from the bowels of your chest, your toes curling against the divots of his buttocks. He fucks you through it, pulled over the edge with you, hot spurts of cum flooding the searing clench of your pussy.

He holds you like this against the door, swathed in the symphony of your quickened heartbeats and breaths. Gulps down air, his forehead nestled against your shoulder, a fine sheen of sweat covering your bodies whilst you pet through locks of powder white, drawing him down from the sky. 

He hums against your lips, drawing you into a sticky kiss that lingers and etches a smile onto your face. He plucks you from the door, tenderly gathering you into his hands to walk you into the bathroom. 

He sets you down on the crisp countertop, the marble cold beneath your inflamed skin. And you paw from him like a needy kitten whilst he divests himself of his clothing, chuckling when he steps between your thighs to rid you of your wrinkled attire.

“Sylus,” you query, blinking lazily up at him whilst he draws you into his arms, turning you toward the shower. He hums in reply, a boyish gleam to his eyes and a smile rounding his lips. “What about the target?”

Sylus snorts, depositing you beneath the warm spray of the shower, the water already working to ease the strain on your muscles. 

“I already took care of it.” And with his hands perched on your hips, he angles himself to kiss you, full-bodied on the lips, never wanting to hear another man’s name touch your tongue again.

—

Meanwhile, Luke and Kieran meander through the quiet halls of the sixth floor, their masks spattered with blood and viscera as they whistle a wistful tune.

[zepskies]

Wanderlust

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂

I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.

Word Count: 650

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.

You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.

Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.

You couldn’t help yourself.  

You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.

You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.

You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.

“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”

You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.

“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.

Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.

If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.

You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.

You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  

Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.

“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.

“Like a tease,” he muttered.

You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.

Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.

“How about that?” you asked.

“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”

You smiled too.

“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”

“Mhmm,” he responded.

He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.

His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.

Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.

A girl could get used to it though.

AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next we have a little hurt/comfort drabble, A Simple Touch:

Summary: Annie still has reservations about Ben, and you dating him for that matter…until she sees it.

▶️ Next Story: A Simple Touch

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[loveritas]

Kinktober Day 25 - Cuckolding with Sylus & Zayne

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, cuckolding, established relationship (reader is sylus' wife), cheating? (it's agreed to), oral (receiving/giving), 69, come eating, masturbation

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 4.9k

a/n: sylus is the cuck because i said so + let's ignore how behind i am right now

You had been married to Sylus for years. He was tender, attentive, making sure you were always safe and of course, a little possessive. Lately, though, there'd been an undercurrent, a tension of sorts, that you couldn't quite define. You didn't know where it was coming from or why, but it was there.

Then there was Zayne—your best friend and constant since long before Sylus came along. Zayne’s presence was different, his caring nature wrapped in an aloof, sometimes unreadable shell. He and Sylus tolerated each other well, their respect tentative at best, for your sake rather than any common bond between them. 

Lately, though, Sylus had been catching the subtleties: how Zayne would stare at you a beat longer when you laughed at one of his jokes, or how his hand would brush yours in passing with a gentle caress that made Sylus' jaw tense. He'd always been possessive, but never in a way that made you uncomfortable—until one night, when he told you something that managed to leave you speechless.

Sylus admitted he'd caught Zayne's glances, and instead of anger, he felt something more complicated-something unexpectedly charged. He thought aloud if he had a kink for the curiosity of seeing you with someone else, namely Zayne.

You were speechless at first. This thought of your husband wanting to share you-especially with Zayne-was surreal. But Sylus' vulnerability, as he spoke this desire out loud, called to you. Reeling you into his fantasy of the need to explore this side of himself and strangely enough yours. You’d felt the chemistry with Zayne, the unspoken current you'd ignored for your loyalty to Sylus. But now it seemed like a door opening to something new.

You felt the weight of Sylus' eyes on you from across the room, fixed with longing and tension. He sat in the corner of your shared bedroom, his hands bound behind him with Zayne's tie, his breaths shallow and strained. It had been Zayne's idea-to hold Sylus in place, to make sure he had no control over what happened next.

Zayne's hand rose to cup your face, his thumb brushing light over your lips, as if testing the waters. The warmth in that touch sent a ripple down your spine and you glanced over at Sylus-your husband-bound and silent, his chest rising in uneven breaths, his eyes wide with jealousy, hunger, and something darker that raced your pulse. He'd asked for this; now, as he watched the scene unfold, the intensity seemed to shake him more than any of you had bargained for.

I think you've waited long enough," Zayne whispered, his hand delicately turning your face to his. He leaned forward and kissed you lightly, a teasing kiss, the kind that would relish anticipation. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you close, as his lips hitched in the kiss and his warm breath stroked your skin. In every touch, it felt like melting into him, the excitement of this moment erasing the lingering doubts in your mind.

The kiss grew bolder, his hands moving with a confidence that sent a thrill through you. His fingers traced the line of your neck, down to your collarbone, each inch claimed with deliberation that felt almost reverent. You forgot everything but his touch, his mouth, the feel of his fingers, and the way he knew just how to make your body respond.

His lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that grew hungrier with each beat of your heart. Your hands, tangled in his opened shirt, pulled him closer, caught in a moment heavy with both anticipation and release. And still, beneath the desire, you felt Sylus' gaze, sharp and focused, like a steady heat against your skin.

Zayne paused, his lips inches from yours, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes as he turned back to glance across the room at Sylus. "Think he's holding up alright over there?" he asked with an edge of satisfaction to the tone that carried so clearly across the room.

Turning, you caught his gaze upon you from where he was restrained. He ran his tongue across his lips and managed a mumbled "Just… keep going." His eyes flashed between you and Zayne, his face a mix of hunger and restraint.

A low chuckle rumbled from Zayne as he returned his focus to you, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. His hands gripped your hips with an urgency that felt possessive, his kiss deeper, almost claiming, knowing Sylus could do nothing but watch. The weight of Zayne’s body against yours, his hands sliding up your back, made you feel alive in ways that left you breathless. 

Being wanted by both men, feeling Sylus’ gaze on you as Zayne pulled you closer, filled you with a strange mix of excitement and thrill. Sylus was here to witness every moment, but it was Zayne who held control.

His lips travelled lower, each kiss deliberate, as he murmured in your ear, “I’ve always wanted this… to see you here, with me, like this. And now he’s watching me have what he can’t.” His voice dropped to a whisper meant just for you. “You like that, don’t you?”

A shiver ran through you, the unguarded thrill rising with each word. You did like it—the feeling of being caught between them, of being wanted so completely. Zayne’s lips pressed lower, leaving a trail along your collarbone, his touch lingering and unhurried as he traced over your skin.

You looked at Sylus, your heart pounding at the sight of him, bound and silent, his body tense, chest rising with rapid breaths. The raw arousal in his eyes was unmistakable, his own emotions fighting with every moment he held back, watching but unable to act.

Zayne’s hand slipped down your thigh, his touch teasing, deliberate, as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “He’s not going to stop me,” he whispered. “He wants this… needs this.”

Your mind grew hazy, caught between Zayne’s heated touch and Sylus’ unwavering gaze. Every second felt like an unspoken dare, testing your will and Sylus’ resolve. Sylus’ eyes were wide, pupils dilated as he watched, his chest heaving with each ragged breath as his own control began to falter.

With a smirk, Zayne felt your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling yourself closer as you let the thrill overtake you. His fingers brushed lower, tracing a line that felt both exhilarating and grounding as he murmured, “I wonder how long he’ll last… think he’ll come without being touched?”

Suddenly, you felt shy under Zayne’s intense gaze. He’d been your best friend forever; you’d never expected to see this side of him.

Zayne’s breath tickled your ear, his voice a low murmur, and each word wrapped around you with an intensity that felt almost palpable. The air between the three of you was charged, each look, each touch only heightening the simmering tension. Your heart beat faster as his hands traced along your waist, fingers playing at the edge of your clothes, sending a thrill through you.

Across the room, Sylus sat bound, a mix of control and surrender flickering in his expression. His chest rose and fell sharply, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the chair with hands bound tight behind him. This was something he’d asked for, something he’d wanted—yet now, seeing Zayne’s hands on you was pushing him to an edge. His jaw clenched, and his dark gaze revealed the turbulent mix of jealousy, desire, and longing within him.

A smirk played on Zayne’s lips as he seemed to relish Sylus’ struggle, his fingers slipping just beneath the fabric of your shirt, grazing your skin with a teasing slowness. “See that?” he whispered, his voice a deep, provocative murmur, meant only for you. “He’s already so hard just watching me have you.”

A shiver ran through you as Zayne’s firm hold and Sylus’ intense stare stirred something deep inside. You let out a soft whimper, Zayne’s hand finding your skin with a gentle but possessive touch. The thrill of Sylus watching, powerless to intervene, mingled with the intimacy of the moment and brought out desires you hadn’t even realised were there.

Zayne met your gaze, and for a moment, the smugness softened, replaced by something familiar, something that reminded you of your shared history. Beneath everything, this was still your best friend—someone who knew you, someone you’d trusted with all of yourself. That quiet understanding brought its own charge, blending comfort with the newness of this intensity.

He kissed you again, more forcefully, with a confidence that claimed you in Sylus’ view. The kiss deepened, unhurried but consuming, and you found yourself clinging to Zayne, your body responding to his touch with every nerve awakened. You could feel Sylus’ gaze heavy on you, each one of Zayne’s movements met with a sharp hitch of breath from Sylus, the tension in his body unmistakable.

Zayne’s hand slipped lower, fingers hooking under your panties as he tugged them down just enough to tease you—and Sylus—with what was to come. He broke the kiss, leaning close, his forehead resting against yours, and in a breathless whisper asked, “You ready?”

You nodded and he slid the fabric away, his fingers trailing a path that made you arch into his touch, craving more with each slow caress. Seeing Sylus react to this, watching his restraint unravel, brought a thrill that you could feel in every inch of your body.

A satisfied grin spread across Zayne’s face as he noted your response, his fingers moving purposefully, his touch exploring your thighs before finally running them along your glistening folds. He threw Sylus a quick, triumphant look, his voice barely above a murmur as he teased, “Look at her… already so eager for me.”

With precision, he positioned you so Sylus had an unobstructed view, every shift of Zayne’s hands carefully in focus for him. Bound in place, Sylus couldn’t tear his eyes away as Zayne’s touch deepened. Knowing you had this effect on both men, feeling their separate intensities, was an exhilarating power you hadn’t expected to feel.

Zayne’s fingers teased your entrance a little, before slowly pushing one inside, his touch confident as he found the perfect rhythm. You gasped as pleasure surged through you, your hips moving instinctively in response to him. He chuckled, his voice low with satisfaction.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his fingers circling with a maddening slowness. “Bet you’re dying for more.”

With a shift, Zayne reclined back on the bed, turning you around and guiding you so you were almost straddling his face. One hand gripped your hips as the other pressed on your back, urging you closer to his cock that was straining against his boxers. He gave a slow, appreciative smile, his voice thick with need as he whispered, “Come on, beautiful. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”

You glanced at Sylus, his body was tense, muscles taut with arousal as he absorbed the scene, desire and frustration warring within his expression.

Zayne’s hands guided you down until your lips hovered just above him. You pressed a few teasing kisses to his clothed erection, before tugging them down enough to free his cock, long and pretty. Slowly, you lowered your head, tracing your tongue over his skin, tasting the warm saltiness of him. A low, satisfied moan escaped your lips as you took him deeper, inch by inch, savouring the way his breath caught and his head fell back, eyes slipping closed.

Just as you lost yourself in the rhythm, Zayne's mouth finally began exploring your pussy, his tongue exploring in slow, purposeful circles that made your breath hitch. Your lips wrapped around his cock and his tongue parting your folds created an electric rhythm between you, every touch a wave of pleasure that reverberated through your entire body.

Sylus watched, unable to look away, his own arousal plain, pressing insistently against his pants. His eyes were fixed on you, his expression dark with need, as if the intensity of what he felt for you were palpable in the room. A fierce blend of longing and envy seemed to coil in his gaze, growing with each muffled sound you made.

Zayne’s tongue circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. His hands tightened on your thighs, steadying you as you rocked against him, chasing every wave, every shudder. The tension coiled tighter, winding deep within you as he continued, each touch pushing you closer to the edge.

You were dimly aware of Sylus, his breaths heavy and uneven, his eyes never leaving your face. You could feel his desperation, the silent plea in his gaze as you gasped under Zayne’s touch.

You moved in rhythm, your hips meeting Zayne’s mouth, each brush of his nose against your clit was a spark against your sensitive skin. Each touch, each taste, was overwhelming. And as his hands held you, his moans mingled with your own, it was a fevered exchange that blurred the world around you. You ran your tongue along his shaft, before returning to take him deeper, bobbing your head as much as you could from the angle. Each pulse bringing him closer, his hands pressing into your thighs with renewed fervour.

Finally, as your body strained for release, Zayne’s hand left your thigh, his touch easing back as he pulled away, his breath fast and his gaze full of promise. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I want to feel you cum around my cock.”

The words ignited something fierce within you, a trembling anticipation as you moved, shifting in a quiet ache for what came next. 

Zayne released your hips, and as you shifted, he quickly positioned himself behind you whilst you were already on all fours, his presence warm and solid. His hands moved over you, one sliding around your hip, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot, each slow circle a tease.

You looked ahead, meeting Sylus’ gaze, seeing his chest rise and fall as he watched, bound and captivated, his gaze hungry and unwavering.

Zayne’s fingers continued, slow and knowing, as he pressed forward, sliding his cock inside you with a steady ease that made your breath catch, filling you completely. The feeling of his touch, and Sylus’ dark, intense stare, held you suspended between them, every sensation amplified as your body moved in time with Zayne’s, grounded in him, but electrified by Sylus’ silent, longing presence.

In this moment, caught between their two worlds, every touch felt infinite, every movement a reminder of the power you held over them both, leaving you completely breathless, each sensation more vivid and alive than the last.

You arched your back, pressing your hips against him, craving more of that delicious intensity. Zayne responded eagerly, thrusting deep inside you with a powerful rhythm that took your breath away. He established a relentless pace, his fingers dancing over your clit, each thrust punctuated by the sound of his skin meeting yours, a primal slap that echoed in the charged air.

With a firm grip, Zayne shifted his hand from your hip to your jaw, tilting your head to face Sylus. The moment your eyes met, you felt a rush of heat. Sylus’ gaze was a storm of raw hunger, jealousy, and desire that ignited something deep within you.

“Look at him,” Zayne growled, his voice low and commanding. “See how much he wants you? How badly he wishes he could be the one inside you right now?”

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Sylus, lost in the intensity of his stare as Zayne continued his unrelenting assault from behind. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, eliciting gasps and moans that filled the room like a symphony of desire.

Sylus looked utterly consumed, his chest heaving with every ragged breath, an expression of fierce longing etched across his features. He appeared to be a man possessed, his own arousal evident as he squirmed against his restraints, his body betraying the desperation that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Zayne,” he gasped, voice strained and thick with need. “Please… I need…”

Zayne paused, his hips stilling as he turned to Sylus, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. You could see the triumph in his eyes, relishing the power he held over your husband. “What was that?” Zayne taunted, a playful mockery lacing his voice. “You need something?”

“Please,” Sylus breathed again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Untie me. I just need… I need to touch myself, fuck-”

Zayne's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief as he watched Sylus writhe in his restraints. “What’s the magic word, Sylus?” he teased, thrusting deep into you once more, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body.

You cried out, the force of his movement making you lean forward, your body desperate for something to anchor you amidst the waves of sensation. Sylus’ eyes were wild with need, his breathing laboured as he fought to regain control.

“Please,” he gasped, desperation creeping into his tone. “I promise I won’t touch her. I just need… Fuck, Zayne, I need to touch myself.”

Zayne chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the room like a potent aphrodisiac. “And why should I let you do that?” he challenged, his fingers gripping your hips tighter, holding you in place. “Why should I give you any relief while you just sit there, watching me fuck your wife?”

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with a heady mix of lust and jealousy. Sylus squirmed against his restraints, the sight of you lost in pleasure, vulnerable and exposed, driving him to the brink of madness.

Zayne pulled out, his cock glistening with your arousal as he approached Sylus, and you whined as you felt the emptiness of his absence.

Leaning in close, Zayne brushed his lips against Sylus’ ear. “Beg for it,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Beg for me to untie you, and maybe I’ll let you touch yourself.”

Sylus' breath hitched, his eyes wide and pleading as he looked up at Zayne. “Please,” he begged, voice strained. “I need… I need to touch myself. I promise I won’t touch her. I just… God, I need it so badly.”

Zayne chuckled darkly, amusement flickering in his eyes. He reached behind Sylus, finding the knot binding him, and with a sharp tug, he loosened it, granting Sylus his freedom.

Settling himself at the edge of the bed, Zayne spread his legs, inviting you closer with a sultry smile. “Come here, baby,” he purred, patting his thigh. “I want to feel you ride me, want to watch you lose yourself on my cock while your husband watches.”

You hesitated, glancing at Sylus, who was already palming himself through his pants, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over you. The thrill of being watched, of knowing he was so aroused by the sight of you with another man, sent a shiver of excitement coursing through your body.

With a deep breath, you moved forward, positioning yourself over Zayne’s lap. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you down onto his waiting cock. You gasped as he filled you, stretching you in a way that felt utterly exhilarating, even more so in this new position.

Slowly, you began to move, finding a rhythm that delighted both of you. Zayne's hands slid up your body, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until sparks of pleasure shot through you.

As you rode Zayne, your eyes locked onto Sylus’, watching him free his aching cock from the confines of his pants. It stood hard and glistening, the tip slick with pre-cum, and your mouth watered at the sight. Imagining tasting him, feeling him throb against your tongue, sent another wave of desire washing over you, causing you to grind down harder onto Zayne.

“That's it, baby,” Zayne groaned, his grip tightening on your hips. “Fuck, look at you, so desperate for it.”

His fingers dug deeper into your skin as he urged you to move faster, to give in to the pleasure coursing between you. “Tell him,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. “Tell him how good I feel inside you, how much you love being fucked by another man.”

You hesitated, glancing back at Sylus, who was now stroking himself faster, his breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. The sight of him so enthralled, so aroused by the thought of you with Zayne, sent another thrill through you.

“Feels so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. “Zayne feels amazing inside me, oh god—”

Sylus’ eyes widened at your words, his hand moving faster over his cock, his hips bucking involuntarily. “How good?” he gasped, his voice strained.

You bit your lip, locking eyes with Sylus as you continued to ride Zayne. “So full,” you moaned, rolling your hips in a sultry motion. “He’s stretching me just right, hitting all the perfect spots.”

Sylus’ eyes were glued to the sight of you, impaled on Zayne’s cock, his strokes becoming more frantic. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You look so hot like that, taking his cock so well.”

“Good girl,” Zayne purred, his fingers urging you to pick up the pace, the intensity of his thrusts matching the fervour of your movements.

Sylus' hand moved faster over his shaft, each stroke deliberate and firm as he watched you. His breath was heavy, his hips thrusting in time with the rhythm you created, caught in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.

Your breasts bounced with every roll of your hips, the soft flesh enticingly bouncing as Zayne kneaded them. The tension inside you began to coil tighter, pleasure building with every thrust, and you lost yourself in the sensations, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” Sylus groaned, his voice strained and urgent. “You’re so fucking hot, baby. Gonna make me cum just watching you.”

Zayne’s thrusts grew harder, more demanding, his voice low and filled with desire. “That’s it,” he growled, his words urging you on. “Take it. Take my cock. You feel so fucking good.”

The dual sensations of Zayne pounding into you and Sylus' heated gaze bore down on you, propelling you closer and closer to that sweet release. Your moans rose in pitch, more frantic as the tension coiled tighter within you.

“Fuck, baby,” Sylus gasped, his voice strained, “Gonna cum with you. I want to see you come on his cock.”

The sensation of Zayne thrusting into you, combined with Sylus watching, stroking himself to the sight, was almost more than you could bear. Your body trembled, muscles tightening as your climax approached.

“I’m close,” you gasped, your voice high and breathless. “Zayne, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Zayne commanded, his hand moving to your clit, rubbing in firm, deliberate circles. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock while your husband watches.”

That added stimulation was the final push you needed, and with a cry, you came undone. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body shaking as you gushed around Zayne’s cock, urging him to join you in ecstasy.

Sylus sat there, utterly captivated, his hand working furiously over his cock, eyes glued to the intoxicating scene unfolding before him. You were lost in pleasure, unravelling on Zayne's cock.

And with a groan that rumbled deep in his chest, Sylus surrendered to his own release, his cum spilling over his hand and chest as he watched you completely consumed by ecstasy with another man.

Zayne's breath came out in ragged gasps, and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, feeling his cock pulse as he reached his peak. You could feel the rush of warmth as he filled you with his cum, an overwhelming sensation that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt him spill inside you, the thick release flooding your core and dribbling out and down your thighs.

Zayne’s hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm, his body jerking with each pulsating throb. “Fuck, that’s so good,” he rasped, his voice laced with raw desire. “Take it all, baby. I want you to feel every last drop.”

Exhausted and blissful, you leaned back against him, your mind hazy and body spent. Zayne’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he pulled out slowly, his softening cock slipping from your well-fucked pussy. A shiver ran through you as you felt his release spill out, a tangible reminder of the pleasure you’d just shared. Sylus remained seated, his own arousal evident as he took in the sight of you, marked by another man.

As you lay there, panting and glowing, you sensed Sylus draw closer, the magnetic pull of your dripping pussy too tempting for him to resist. With a low, primal growl, he dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, his eyes dark and hungry as he locked onto your cum-filled hole. “Look at you,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. “Taking Zayne’s load like a good girl.”

Before you could respond, Sylus’ hands gripped your thighs, parting you wider as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the sensitive folds. The moment his warm tongue brushed against your over-sensitized clit, you gasped, your body instinctively bucking for more of that delicious friction.

Sylus moaned as he devoured you, his tongue exploring every inch, savouring the mix of your cum and Zayne's. The depravity of it all sent fresh waves of arousal coursing through you, igniting a fire within your already sensitive body. As Sylus pushed deeper, your whimpers turned to soft moans, the pleasure mounting in a way that was almost overwhelming.

“Too much,” you managed to gasp, fingers tangling in the sheets as you struggled to handle the sensation. “I can’t... please.”

But Zayne's hands were firm on your hips, keeping you open and exposed for Sylus’ eager mouth. “Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, sultry command. “Let him worship you. Let him taste how good I made you feel.”

The vibrations of Sylus’ growl against your body sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, each stroke of his tongue pulling you closer to another peak. As Zayne’s hands roamed your body, teasing your breasts and rolling your nipples, the sensations became a blissful storm.

“Just relax,” Zayne encouraged, his voice dripping with approval. “Let him enjoy every inch of you. You’re such a good girl.”

With each flick of Sylus’ tongue and the soft, persistent pressure of Zayne’s hands, your body instinctively responded, rocking against Sylus’ face. The combination of their ministrations was intoxicating, building you up higher and higher, pushing you toward a point of no return.

Sylus’ fingers joined his mouth, teasing your clit while his tongue explored your depths. The mixture of sensations became too much; you could feel your climax bubbling up, threatening to spill over. “I’m close!” you cried, your voice breathy with desperation. “Guys, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Zayne commanded, his hand moving to your clit, rubbing in firm, deliberate circles. “Cum for us, baby. Let it all out while your husband laps it up.”

The intensity was suffocating, and with a cry, you shattered into pure bliss, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Sylus lapped at your release, his eager mouth prolonging your pleasure, coaxing every last drop from your body. Zayne held you tightly, supporting you through the aftershocks of your climax.

When the waves of pleasure finally ebbed, Sylus pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He leaned up, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, and you could taste yourself on his tongue—rich and intoxicating. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and crevice as he deepened the kiss, claiming you with a possessive urgency that sent shivers down your spine.

You melted into him, surrendering to the heat of his touch. It felt both filthy and undeniably right, the three of you entwined in a web of passion and desire. As the final echoes of your orgasm faded, the three of you collapsed onto the bed, limbs tangled and bodies slick with sweat.

Zayne lay back, arms wrapped around you as you nestled against his side, head resting on his chest. Sylus sprawled beside you, his hand possessively resting on your hip. For a moment, the room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the three of you basking in the afterglow of shared pleasure. Zayne’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, soothing and gentle, while Sylus nuzzled into your neck, peppering soft kisses along your pulse point.

With a low chuckle, Sylus murmured, “Round two? Where I get to actually join in this time.” You shivered at the promise in his words, your body responding to the heat of his touch. Zayne’s arm tightened around you, drawing you closer as he whispered, “I’m down for that.”

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© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[lqveharrington]

Double Surprise | R.L.

summary: The Marauders and Lily come over for Christmas Dinner but you and Remus have a little surprise for them all.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: mentions of sex, talks of pregnancy, drinking, sirius and reader acting like siblings, overall just fluff

a/n: this idea came to me randomly 🤷‍♀️ (and it’s not even Christmas time yet??)

Ever since you fell for Remus all those years ago, you knew he was the one you wanted to be with forever. He did as well. You went from talking, to dating, to engaged, and the latest: married. And every single time you fell harder and harder for him.

So it was no surprise that you wanted a child with him. A mini version of your love right beside you. After a long conversation with a worried Remus, you both decided it was time. You were able to soothe his thoughts about the full moon and a baby at the same time which you knew was his greatest worry. He didn’t want to accidentally turn you nor the baby into what he was.

With many nights of trying — although both of you could argue that some of those nights were much more passionate than others — you were finally pregnant with his child. There was no other way to tell your friends about the news except over Christmas dinner, of course.

“How do I look?” You bit the tip of your thumbnail in anticipation, looking at yourself through the mirror hung in the hallway. “Presentable enough?”

It wasn’t like you were scared to tell them… Actually, you were beyond terrified to tell them, especially Lily. She was practically a sister to you at Hogwarts and you always told her everything that happened in your life. And having a baby was the most important news of all.

“Gorgeous as always, dovey.” Remus murmured as he carefully wrapped his arms around you with his hand placed on your stomach, cradling the growing fetus.

You weren’t showing at all. You were barely two months, but you knew he meant it as a comforting gesture. You tilted your head to look at him properly and smiled when he placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You parted and bit your lip softly, smiling even harder as you looked between his eyes. “What was that for?”

“Just admiring the one I love.” He nudged his nose with yours and kissed you once more.

The moment was sweet enough to give you a cavity, but the rapid knocking from your front door caused the both of you to snap out of it. You lean your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a second, letting yourself stay in comfort for a little longer.

Finally — after more aggressive knowing from the door — you sigh and press a loving kiss to his lips. “Get the door, please? I need to check on dinner.”

“You just don’t want get cold.” Remus patted your hip as you sent him a cheeky smile.

“You know me so well.” You blow him an air kiss as you sauntered into the warmth of the kitchen.

But even from the kitchen you could hear the shouts of the people at the door, which amused you beyond all doubt. Sirius — of course — was the loudest voice you could make out. His shouting loud enough for the neighbors to hear over the thickening snow.

“Moony, let us in! It’s freezing!” Sirius shouted as he pounded on the door with his fist, teeth chattering.

The next voice you heard was James. And it was no surprise to you that he used his wife’s name to get Remus to open the door faster.

“You don’t want Evans to freeze, do you?”

Finally, you heard Lily’s voice through the thick door. “It’s Potter now, but we all know I’m still your favorite, Rem!”

You snickered when you finally heard the door unlock and feet stumbling into the warmth of your house. The clunking of boots and your coat rack filled the air as you pulled the food out of the oven.

“Oh, thank Godric.” Sirius immediately collapsed onto the arm chair, propping his feet up toward the fire place. “I couldn’t feel any of my bloody fingers.”

Lily hastily placed her coat into James’ hand before directing her attention to the Welsh man beside her. “Remus, I love you, but I love your wife so much more.”

At that, you perked up and rushed into the living room, colliding with Lily and crushing her in a tight hug. “It’s my favorite Potter!”

“Hey—“

“Says you, Mrs. Lupin.” Lily kissed both your cheek and held you in front of herself to get a better look at your figure.

Thankfully, you wore a comfy sweater that covered your barely showing bump. Lily rubbed your arms, smiling so bright it challenged the sun’s rays. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, face radiating pure joy.

“How did we both get so lucky?” You return her smile and lead her into the kitchen with questions trailing after. “How are you?”

James looked at Sirius and Remus in disbelief, still surprised that the girls left them faster than the speed of light. Remus shrugged and still had a lovesick look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” James propped his coat and Lily’s on the rack and snapped his fingers in front of Remus, sighing when he glared at him.

“Are you sure?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and nudged Remus with his elbow. “It could be fun.”

“You two are so weird.” Remus rolled his eyes and left them to set up the dining table, shaking his head when he heard the two of them bickering as they followed him.

“You’re part of this friend group!”

As the smell of Christmas dinner filled the house — along with chatter from all of you — it was finally time to reveal your surprise to the group. They were merely talking amongst themselves as they ate dinner, oblivious to the glances you kept sparing to your husband.

You were still anxious about how the reveal would go down. Noticing this, Remus brought your hand up and kissed the back of it with a look a reassurance. Now you knew you had to tell them.

“Mm, you know the Longbottoms? They have a child on the way.” Lily drank from her iced tea as she told you the latest gossip she heard since the last time she saw you.

“Really? It seems like everyone we know is.” Sirius swirled his wine around before downing it all in one go.

You grimaced at him, masking your face when he made eye contact with you.

He glanced around at the table and gave you and Lily confused looks, refilling his wine in the process. “Hang on now, how come you,” He pointed a finger toward your figure. “And you,” He then pointed at Lily. “Aren’t drinking wine? Christmas is the best time to drink some.”

“Saving it for the in-laws.” You waved a hand around and did your best not to project nervousness. “Besides, Remus isn’t drinking either.”

Sirius stuck his tongue out at you then quickly retreated when you sent him a dirty glare. He was about to protest when Remus interrupted. Remus knew that you two fought like siblings and it wasn’t needed today.

“Speaking of gifts…” Remus squeezed your hand and grabbed your attention once more. “Dovey got you guys early gifts.”

You nod slowly and clear your throat, letting excitement take over when you saw Lily light up. “We’re going over to his parents’ house for Christmas and I really want to see your reaction to this present. It’s one that can’t that long.”

As you stood up to find the presents for them, Remus guided them over to the living room right in front of the Christmas tree. The three of them sat across the carpet like children on Christmas morning. You handed them their gifts and took a seat next to Remus, his arm naturally moving across your shoulder.

Before Sirius could even tear into his gift, you stuck your hands out to stop him. He frowned and crossed his arms, almost like he was a child.

“Sirius— I want you all to open them at the same time.” You swiftly spoke and fiddled with Remus’ fingers instead, effectively calming yourself down.

All together, the three of them opened their gifts and suddenly, gasps filled the air. Lily and James’ mouths were gaping and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad sign.

“What do you guys think?” You bit the inside of your cheek and leaned your head in Remus’ shoulder, trying to defuse the nervousness creeping up your body.

Sirius huffed and spun the picture a thousand times without looking at the other gift inside. “I can’t tell what it is… What’s written on it?”

“You’re kidding.” James looked between you and Remus before down to your stomach, running his fingers through his hair.

“Really? You’re being so serious right now?” Lily twisted the ends of her tissue paper in excitement, ready to jump all around the room.

“Hey, wait—“ Sirius tried to intervene, still clueless to what the photo was supposed to be portraying.

“Congratulations! The odds of this happening is pretty slim.” James stood and clapped Remus’ back, giving you both happy looks.

Your face twisted in confusion as you looked up at James, Lily trailing right behind. “What do you mean?”

“Me too.” Lily placed a delicate hand on her stomach, making you gasp in return.

“Really?” Your eyes shined brightly, grasping her hands in yours.

“Yeah, just found out a couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged and watched James and Remus converse about the new fatherhood they would embark together.

“Congratulations, Lils!” You giddily exclaimed and pulled her into another soul crushing hug.

Lily laughed in enjoyment. Not only was she happy you were pregnant, but she was overjoyed by the fact you were pregnant as the same time as her. Although you were ahead by a little.

“What is happening?” Sirius whined, throw the paper onto the ground before looking inside the gift once more. Once he found the onesie that said he was going to be an uncle, everything clicked into place. “Ohh…”

“You poor thing.” Remus rolled his eyes before meeting your happy eyes.

You radiated pure joy because of today and he swore that this memory would be etched into his mind forever. No matter what happened, he knew you always had someone to talk to about anything. He pulled your waist and kissed the top of your head, knowing damn well your face was red.

“I’m so happy for you, dovey.” He murmured softly and rubbed your stomach. “I love you more everyday.”

You look up and smile back, “I love you too, Rem.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[wandasaura]

RED WINE SUPERNOVA

summary — when wanda first proposed making you cum in front of her friends, you’d thought she’d been joking, but when maria and carol come over for your annual halloween movie night, you realize she wasn’t at all

warning(s) — established relationship, heavy dom/sub elements, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, teasing, cum tasting, finger sucking, make out session, nipple stimulation/torture, orgasm control/delay, unintentional edging, fingering, clit stimulation, alludes to maria being dommy, carol and maria watch, possessiveness, eventual orgasm, soft aftercare, brief domestic fluff/cuteness, men/minors dni

kinktober

The fabric of your panties had once felt soft against your skin, comfortable and easy as you slid through the house on sock covered feet, preparing for a movie night with your girlfriends and two of their friends. It had become something of a tradition, a soft moment to look forward to in a life overwise filled with chaos and constant movement. Tonight, you’d thought you’d be cuddled up close to Natasha, holding onto Wanda’s hand as you watched Coraline and countless other films that had always inspired spooky feelings in your heart, but when Natasha had steered you away from the wardrobe, declaring that your outfit was enough on its own despite the nakedness of your uncovered stature in frilly panties with a dull pink bow sewn onto the waistband and a lacey top that matched so sweetly, that soft cotton fabric between your legs had very quickly become damp with persistent arousal and anticipation; no longer comfortable as every time you shifted in place, you were reminded of your desperate state and unwavering vulnerability. 

Maria and Carol had been right on time, barging straight into the quaint albeit perfectly cozy apartment that you, Wanda, and Natasha shared whenever they weren’t crashing in safe houses and Shield facilities off the grid. They’d hardly even glanced in your direction as they barrelled through the door, something that was odd and had your belly twisting with wild emotions and sensations, especially when you came to realize why they were acting as if you weren’t there at all. This had been something brought up in passing conversation one night, merely a wild fantasy that Wanda had shared after coming back from a grueling solo mission. You had always known that she was on the kinkier side, especially out of you and Natasha, but hearing about how she wanted to show you off to her friends, wanted to stake her claim with you in front of an audience of your most trusted acquaintances, had you eagerly agreeing to her little fantasy. That’s all that you thought it would be, a fantasy that stayed within the walls of your shared bedroom, but then Natasha brought it up last week, and now here you were, sat on the couch between both of your girlfriends, your naked thighs glimmering beneath the ambient lighting of the television as one of them held your hand, and the other stroked your inner thigh as if you were nothing more than a priceless object to flaunt. 

Your cheeks were heated with flushed humiliation and undeniable arousal, the center of your panties damp and darkened, although thankfully hidden from view yet not ignored entirely. Every few minutes, when you had been led to believe that Natasha’s heavy, possessive, hand wouldn’t rise any further up your thigh, she would stretch her fingers outward and fiddle with the lace edges of your panties, pulling the elastic material away from the crevice of your thigh only to let it snap back into place like a broken record that wouldn’t stop skipping. Wanda squeezed your hand occasionally, reminding you of her steady presence beside you on the couch, but even that did little to quell your racing thoughts as you tracked the way both Carol and Maria traced the outlines of your pebbled nipples through the dainty tank top adorning your torso and upper half. 

After a while, yet only midway through Coraline which nobody was really paying any attention to, Natasha grew bolder in her ministrations with your wanting body, and as a result, the flush plastered across your cheeks and ears became darker with bated arousal and humiliation. That soft, tantalizing touch on the insides of your thighs became curious fingers sweeping through your sodden folds, prodding at your aching clit and pressing against your wanting entrance that begged to suck her fingers in despite your greatest attempts to remain unbothered and unaware. You hadn’t thought it could get any worse, any more humiliating, but just as you got used to Natasha’s cold touch against your hot cunt desperate for relief, she retraced her fingers, instead holding them up to the light for Wanda and her friends to marvel at. 

As she pulled her fingers apart, revealing stringy ropes of warm arousal clinging to her knuckles and the pads of her delicately scarred fingertips, a whine of mortification fell off of your cat clenched tongue and into the air thick with tension and lust, though like before and every minute since both Carol and Maria had stepped inside the apartment, you were ignored entirely by the onlookers who caught a glimpse at your most vulnerable headspace typically reserved for Wanda and Natasha exclusively. “Well would you look at that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little slut likes being shown off.” 

A pitiful whine fell off of your lips as Natasha rubbed her fingers together for everyone in the room to see, making an extravagant show of your glistening moisture that dirtied her fingertips. Your face fell into Wanda’s chest on instinct, seeking protection from the dramatic show Natasha was putting on for her own entertainment, however that was hardly allowed, and mere seconds after you settled with your face against the breasts of your younger girlfriend, her fingers were tangling into your hair and pulling you upright, demanding you watch as Natasha unravels your autonomy, reducing you to nothing but a slut for her friends to ogle; and shamefully, it was turning you on more and more. 

A startled gasp fell off of your lips when Maria came closer, leaving Carol behind on the loveseat adjacent from the couch you sat cuddled into, and stalked up to Natasha with slow, calculated strides of maintained authority. She had always radiated a gentle energy, someone that you found comfort and ease being around whenever you visited your girlfriends at whatever Shield base they occupied, but as she stared down at you, traced the evidence of glistening moisture on the insides of your thighs and snickered to herself when she found that telling patch of darkness on the center of your panties, she’d never appeared more dominant, and your heart lurched in your chest at the prospect of misbehaving in her company. 

When her lips wrapped around Natasha’s fingers, cleaning them off without so much as a grimace as she let the taste of your arousal sink into every taste bud on her tongue, a blush so dark it nearly burned your skin crept down your neck and provoked tingles and goosebumps to rise along your spine and in your belly where that coil of anticipation grew bigger and bigger each time Natasha humiliated you further. When Maria moaned softly, only pulling off of Natasha’s fingers because she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled over in her chest as you squirmed and whined with impatient humiliation, you nearly melted into the couch entirely, not sure what was worse; being beneath her heavy, pointed stare, or watching as your girlfriends shared your intimate sweetness with their friends. 

“My shy girl. Why are you pretending that you don’t like this, huh? Your pussy’s aching for Natty to touch you, and yet you’re pretending to be my shy girl like you don’t want her to make you cum for Carol and Maria to see.” Wanda coaxed tantalizingly, her fingers ghosting along your chest for the first time that night, taking an interest in your pebbled nipples that pleaded for attention just as Maria sat back on the couch with Carol, being abruptly pulled into a searing kiss that conveyed passion and intense need. 

Between the sharp sensations of Wanda fiddling with your pebbled nipples, pinching and pulling and twisting, your eyes remained locked on Carol and Maria who seemed to be lost in the whirlwind of their passionate makeout session. You hadn’t known that they were an item, wouldn’t have suspected it even if the signs had been laid out in front of you, but they moved together so cohesively, it couldn’t have been the first time they found themselves in this position. It was most definitely the first time you found yourself in this position however, and you couldn’t stop the involuntary whine that clawed up your throat and forced its way out when they finally pulled away, a lust drink smirk on Carol’s lips as she practically undressed you with her eyes. 

“You’ve been holding out on us, Romanoff. I didn’t know your girl was so sweet.” Carol’s lips curved with dominance that hadn’t been traceable when Maria had tangled her long fingers into her short blonde locks and tugged so aggressively you feared Carol may recoil from the kiss in momentary pain, but as she sat on the loveseat that you had spent many nights cuddled up on, she looked absolutely dominating with her icy blue stare and sharp jawline. 

“She’s the sweetest, isn’t she?” Natasha’s eyes glimmered with dominance as she turned her attention to you, fully focusing on the pink hues that formed along your cheekbones and skin, marveling at the glaze of submission that had come across your eyes since she’d first denied you access to the wardrobe in your shared bedroom. “Why don’t we take these off, show Carol and Maria how wet you really are for me, hm?” There wasn’t much of a question in her softly uttered words, but there was enough grace given that you knew you could back out at any moment. You declined that subtly placed offer, though your embarrassment didn’t lighten any. You couldn’t explain the strong feelings turning your blood into butterflies, but despite being utterly humiliated, you were beyond turned on. You wanted Natasha to continue to condescend you, you wanted Carol and Maria to watch as she unraveled your walls and brought you through a glorious episode of bliss and pleasure. You wanted to know that despite sharing the sight of your body with two people that you trust most in Wanda and Natasha’s tight knit circle, that you were truly only theirs to have. 

When your panties came off, you tried not to watch as Natasha playfully flung them across the room in Maria and Carol’s direction, or how the Commander grabbed them without batting an eye and inspected the dark patch adorning the center that had laid so snugly against your weeping entrance. You shuddered in anticipation when Natasha pried your legs open just the slightest bit more, draping one of your naked thighs across her material covered lap, opening you up for eager eyes to search. You whined when her fingers swept through your folds again, although this time, she didn’t spare her touches like she had been. Her fingers fell onto your clit heavily, rubbing rushed tight circles on your pebbled bundle of nerves that pleaded for attention and relief. 

When Carol commented about wanting to taste you herself, Wanda’s ministrations on your nipples seemed to double, fueled by possessiveness that was intimidating and unspeakably arousing, and through a haze of intense pleasure that was sparking through your body at various places, you just barely recall her telling Danvers to remember the agreement at hand. Her possessive touch lit your body up, and before you could comprehend the desperation that was truly turning you into a mindless slut for two of the most powerful and influential people in the world to witness, your hips searched for more from Natasha in desperate twists and pathetic reaches. 

“How long do you think it’ll take me to make the little slut cum?” Natasha wagered, her smirk devious as she stopped rubbing tight circles around your clit without so much as a warning that you were about to lose what you’d been begging for all night, her eyes trained on Carol and Maria, paying no mind to the way you babbled and sobbed for relief, having been seconds away from an orgasm that was now ebbing away into the abyss. Desperately you fought for her attention, arching your hips up against her hand, attempting to gain back even an ounce of the pressure she had been providing, but Wanda’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you back before you could succeed. 

“A minute.” Carol laughed, her tone painfully condescending as her eyes traced the gleam of arousal that had marked your skin with glistening moisture, your pussy on full display as Natasha unintentionally spread you farther, giving both Danvers and Hill an extraordinary sight of your pulsating clit and weeping hole that was desperate for any ounce of attention. 

“Fifty six seconds, but nobody's counting.” Maria’s response was dry, laced with infectious dominance that was spurring Natasha on to be better, harsher. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when two fingers sunk into your cunt, enveloped by velvety walls that squeezed her knuckles tight. There was no time to grow used to the stretch as she worked you open, but it felt so good you didn’t care. 

Her thumb found your clit again, and relentlessly she worked you back up towards that orgasm you’d been desperately chasing. Wanda’s fingers didn’t stop pulling and twisting at your nipples, but at some point, she’d pulled your top low, trading in thin fabric for warm flesh. You hardly flushed when you realized all of you was now exposed to Carol and Maria, so desperate for an orgasm that you let it fade away entirely. Strained whines and pleads fell off of your lips as Natasha worked you closer and closer to a blissful orgasm embarrassingly quick, but she kissed your insecurities away as she mumbled for you to let go, to let her make it all better. 

“Shh, there we go. There we go, pretty girl. Making such a mess for me. It’s okay.” She coaxed softly, pecking your lips multiple times as she withdrew her fingers, quickly finding a blanket to throw over your body, no longer wanting you visible to her closest friends who seemed to understand, and didn’t comment on her quickness to cover you up. 

“Forty seven seconds. Impressive.” Maria taunted lightly, her smile dazzling as she flashed you the softest look you’d ever seen her give. You blushed, hiding your face in Wanda’s chest as she allowed you to get comfortable, seeking out her tender affection that she would never dream of withholding. “Where are you going?” Maria narrowed her eyes at Natasha when she noticed the redhead itching to rise from the couch, her arms slowly falling off of your still trembling frame as you leaned heavily against Wanda in post-orgasm bliss and hazy submission. 

“To get her a water?.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed as she found herself explaining the routine steps to your preferred aftercare scene that she had engraved in her mind like a sacred text since starting her relationship with you, but Maria merely scoffed and stood up herself, tenderly handing your panties back to Wanda who took them appreciatively. 

“I’ll get her some water. You make sure that she’s okay.” Was her affectionately mumbled response. You didn’t really pay any attention to Natasha easing your panties back up your legs, or Wanda softly fixing your top over your breasts, but by time Maria returned with a glass of water, you were dressed and snuggled into Wanda’s lap contently, holding tightly to Natasha’s hand, just barely able to focus on the credits rolling across the screen.  

“Thank you.” You mumbled to Maria when she passed the water off to you, smiling encouragingly before she took a seat next to Carol again, seemingly unphased by what had just happened, although it did ease the knot of anxiety in your belly. Nothing had changed, they didn’t see you any differently, and if anything, these were the best post-scene cuddles that Wanda had ever given, partly because her possessiveness fueled her need to hold you tight and stake her claim despite there being no threat. 

“What do you say we watch Halloween Town?” Carol mused, seemingly just as eager to assure your comfortability as Maria, to which you were beyond grateful for. 

“Twitches. Someone thinks it’s fun to watch witch movies and compare everything about them to me.” Wanda giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, silently settling the question of which film would be the one that you all agreed to pay attention to. Maria agreed easily, fighting Natasha for the remote and winning, victoriously scrolling through your streaming platform until she found what she desired. 

“I love you.” You mumbled to Wanda, slouching against her chest as your attention drifted between her soft touch and the opening scene beginning to play at a low volume. 

“I love you too, baby. So much more than you’ll ever know.”

[prythianpages]

I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight. 

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours. 

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this. 

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.  

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.” 

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you. 

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes.  “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath. 

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.” 

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one. 

“The tracking…I knew of it.” 

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

 "Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you. 

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side. 

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed.  "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress."  The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it. 

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier. 

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. 

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her." 

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.  

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.” 

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you.  “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more. 

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?” 

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his. 

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions. 

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play. 

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate. 

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

[prkhaven]

FEELS LIKE SUMMER -l.sh, p.js, s.jy, p.sh-

Four guys and one girl kick off their unforgettable summer break on paradise beach

pairing— enhypen!hyung line x fem!reader

genre: smut minor do not interact, pwop, literally no plot whatsoever just a whole lot of p

wc: 7.1k

-all warnings under cut-

warnings: hyung line is very horny, all of them (besides jake) are mean, profanity, magically they are the only people at the beach, so unrealistic

smut warnings: filthy, fivesome, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap the willies), so much cum, creampies, p in v, degradation, praising, slut shaming, multiple rounds, exhibition, agoraphilia, dumbification, squirting, slight manhandling, cum eating, dom!enhypen hyung line, oral (m+f rec.), usage of nicknames(slut, good girl, whore, etc.), overstimulation, throat fucking, pussy slapping

Three out of the four yelled in the car in pure excitement, the ocean smell filling the car through the open windows as the breeze swept through their sweaty bodies. Their music blaring as they past through, none of them caring for the looks thrown their way from their ruckus.

“I’ve been waiting all year this, it’s finally summer!” Jake yelled as he slapped his knees repeatedly in anticipation, “How much longer till we get there Hee?” He asked the one driving, who took a look to the GPS

“10 more minutes till we’re experiencing paradise beach boys”

This beach was said to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the costal area that barely anyone came to. It was too far out for most so no one never really bothered going with the exception of a few but in their minds it was jokes on the people who missed out on this beach.

The friend group was more than ready to do the long drive just to experience the wonders of the beach for themselves, desperate to make the most out of their summer.

“Can’t wait to get wet” Sunghoon murmured under his breath, feeling the sweat trickling off his body but Jake shoved him with a disgusted face, “Not like that you nasty freak” Sunghoon spat when he realized how Jake interpreted his words

Jake broke out into a fit of giggles before shifting to the middle seat, squeezing his arms in the middle compartment between the driver and passenger seat. “Jay! I can’t believe you’re sleeping through this awesome trip to the beach. Wake up!” Jake forcefully woke his said friend up from his slumber

“Shut up Jake” Was all Jay said not even opening his eyes as he nestled his head deeper into the head rest

“Don’t stress over it too much Jake. Jay needs his beauty sleep in order to drive back”

Jay teared his eyes opened and whipped his head, staring at Heeseung in disbelief “When did we ever establish that I was making the drive back?” Jay asked and Heeseung cheekily smiled

“Uh about 5 seconds ago”

Heeseung noticed in the mirror how Jay almost launched himself at him and he held out a finger and shook it, letting out an ‘Uh uh’. “Can’t hit me I’m the driver” Jay huffed at his friend’s response, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms in annoyance

“I’m gonna take you down the moment we get to the beach Hee”

Heeseung jokingly shivered in fear but laughed out loud hearing how Jake and Sunghoon erupted in a loud laughter.

“You guys are so annoying” Jay frowned and Sunghoon who sat behind him in the back seat snuck his hand and poked Jay’s cheek causing him jerk away and attempt to grab Sunghoon’s hand

Sunghoon laughed as Jay turned around to glare at him. “I’ll take you down too Sunghoon”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try” Sunghoon raised his eyebrow, instigating his friend but they were interrupted when the car was parked

“And we’re here!” Heeseung announced and Jake was the first one to shoot out of the car and run towards the beach with a scream

The beach was in fact very true to its reputation, not seeing a single soul there other than them and he was in awe by how beautiful the beach was.

The sand felt like fresh soft snow, the clear water allowing to see the ocean floor. This beach was utterly perfect, Jake felt an arm around his shoulder and he looked to see Heeseung who closed his eyes and sharply inhaled.

“Now it feels like summer”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Jay stayed true to his words as he was quick to grab Heeseung once they all settled down and attempt to drag him into the water.

“Let go of me!” Heeseung tried to peel his friend off of him as they got closer to the water, “You also wanted to get Sunghoon! Get him and spare me, I’ll even help you!”

Jay stopped hearing at the sudden offer of help to take down the said other friend instead and he let go of Heeseung to show a sign of truce.

Heeseung sighed in relief seeing that he was spared as he followed in suit after Jay who was already marching back to the poor blanket they established for themselves where the other two friends were settled down at.

The summer sun blared against them and Sunghoon who was minding his own business talking to Jake took notice of his two friends looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“What?” He asked and before he knew it, his two friends grabbed him by the arms and attempted to drag him to the water, “What the fuck?!” Sunghoon thrashed in their hold to break free

“Jake help us! You know he’s stronger than all of us” Heeseung called out to the last friend who immediately jumped in and pushed Sunghoon with his shoulder closer to the water

And right when Sunghoon was able to manage free one of his arms from their hold, he was pushed harshly into the freezing cold sea. He landed face first and gasped loudly as he jumped up, covering his face with his hands as he panted for air.

“Thought you said you couldn’t wait to get wet Hoon” Jake teased with the previous words said in the car and Sunghoon shot a sharp glare to his friends who were laughing loudly seeing his soaked state

“You three are so done for” Sunghoon announced before taking big strides out of the water to chase after his already running friends

They were in their own world, oblivious to you, the only other person on the beach who arrived not too long after them. You frowned, ripping off your earbuds as you rested yourself up on your elbows hearing the loud ruckus on the beach.

This was supposed to be a hidden peaceful beach, so why were you hearing not one, not two, not even three but four guys screaming on the top of their lungs.

When you caught sight of the four guys on the beach, you grimaced to yourself realizing they were just like you, just trying to enjoy the summer day on the beautiful beach.

You dragged down your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose to properly get a look at them and your breath slightly hitched seeing them in their little establishment of a blanket that held all of their belongings.

Sunghoon pulled his damped shirt off and twisted it to get the water drained out of it, seeing how the stream of water fell from his favorite shirt made him frown deeply.

“Cheer up Sunghoon, it’ll dry up in the most natural way” Heeseung patted his bare back before pointing into the sky, “By the sun” Sunghoon swatted his friend’s hand away making him chuckle before giving a few more extra pats just to spite Sunghoon

As the rest of his friend were following in suit of removing their shirts, Sunghoon looked around the beach, his eyes squinting from the sun’s glare before stopping on you, he didn’t notice there was someone else besides them.

He froze up, noticing your piercing gaze on them from the opening of your sunglasses that rested midway on your nose bridge.

“Hey” He called out to garner his friend’s attention and Jake who already took of his shirt and threw it down next to Sunghoon’s was the first to react to his friend’s calling

He noticed how Sunghoon was looking off to the distance so his eyes trailed the line of sight and he finally noticed you. Jake immediately slapped Jay’s body in a haste before he could even take off his shirt and the boy was going to curse at his friend before noticing something or more like someone had Jake’s full undivided attention.

He looked to where his two friend were staring at as he saw your held up self by your elbows, your fingers holding your sunglasses down just enough to fully see them.

“What are you guys so quiet?” Heeseung laughed, not paying attention to what was happening and when he finally did

He turned his gaze from his frozen friends to you, the one that made them all suddenly speechless.

There was no denying the fact that you were beautiful. Your skin glistened from combination of sunblock, lotion and sweat as your eyes never once left them. Your eyes hoping from each of them as you drunk in their undeniable strong appearance.

Today must’ve been your lucky day, you were blessed with four conveniently attractive guys on the beach on the hot summer day.

You smirked before bringing your sunglasses up and laying back down on your back to continue allowing the sun to drown your skin.

When you finally looked away, the guys were finally able to breathe as they all turned to each other with shaky eyes. They didn’t know what, let alone why, they were feeling like this but there was one thing they all collectively felt and it throbbed right in between their legs.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

“Go long” Jay shouted to Jake who ran through the sand, arms out to catch the football thrown to him

It’s been a few hours since they’ve arrived at the beach (and since they realized your presence). You respectfully kept your distance and they did the same, worried what would happen if the 5 of you got close enough.

Jake thought he would be able to catch the football but instead it slipped through his hands and fled past him only to land right next to you. Great.

You heard the thud next to you and you peered over your shoulder to spot the football that landed almost perfectly next to you. You turned to the side seeing how Jake was mumbling to himself before lightly jogging over to you with a hand up and a tight smile.

You fully turned around and sat up, grabbing the football next to you waiting until he arrived in front of you. Jake slowed down his pace, gulping down a pant that he excused to be from jogging and nothing else.

“Sorry about that, it slipped through my fingers” The guy in front of you rubbed his nape awkwardly, looking everywhere but at you

You frowned lightly before tilting your head, fully removing your sunglasses. Jake finally noticed you and he let out an audible gasp, seeing your face up close without your sunglasses blocking your face.

As weird as it sounded in his head, you had the most perfect pair of eyes he’s ever see. His eyes that stayed on your face, now lingered down your body. He threw himself into a daze as he unconsciously licked his lips as he tried to burn the sight of you into his eyes.

He realized he must’ve been staring when he hadn’t said anything and the football was still in your hand, he embarrassingly pulled his gaze back to your eyes.

You looked up to his standing figure and slightly smirked seeing the faint reddening in his ear as you realized where his lingering eyes were. You shook the football in your hand, “Make sure to catch it next time” Hearing your voice for the first time made his heart pound uncomfortably against his chest

Everything about you was perfect. He gulped, knowing if he opened his mouth he would ruin the moment. Sticking to only nodding his head and grabbing the football from you as you gave him a sweet sickening smirk, a glint in you that he caught before you placed your sunglasses back on.

You laid back down on your front with ease, your boobs slotting into the holes in the sand you made to fit them perfectly.

Jake began to walk away, trying to get his mind off of you but it was impossible, not after seeing you so up to close even hearing your voice before any of the others.

You made his mind too fuzzy to think properly that he spontaneously turned his heel and walked back towards you, calling out to get your attention.

You raised your head up again and he could feel your questioning gaze through your glasses towards him but he pushed past that as he held the football out to you.

“Wanna come play with us?”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Now what Jake meant by if you wanted to play with them consisted of you throwing the football back and forth every now and then but mainly for you to just hang around and talk with them.

He didn’t expect to have you sucking the life out of him, his head thrown back as he held back whines by how easily you took all of him in your mouth. Jay who you were sitting in between of his legs had your swimsuit bottoms pushed to the side as his fingers were buried deep inside your dripping wet core.

Heeseung and Sunghoon huddle over you, silently watching the scene before them. It was something straight of a porn video but instead it being through a video, it was happening in real life and to them.

“F-fuck, y-you’re such a good girl. Taking all of me in your mouth” Jake groaned as you continued to bop up and down his shaft in a haste, as your mouth vibrated around him from the curling of Jay’s finger deep inside you

“She’s no good girl, she’s a fucking whore” Jay spat as his fingers pumped in and out of you and he smirked wildly feeling you clenching around his fingers, “You like being called a whore? Probably because you know you are one” Jay let out as you whined around Jake’s cock, feeling your stomach tightening and Jay could feel you getting closer to your orgasm

He hastily continued to glide his two plunged fingers deeper and faster into you causing you to be a moaning mess. “Continue sucking him off, he didn’t come yet” Jay slipped out his fingers that ripped you away from your orgasm only to slap your pussy harshly making you jolt

You could feel the tears building up in your eyes as spit formed in the corner of your mouth as you tried to continue sucking Jake’s cock after having your orgasm ripped from you.

“You’ll let me use your pretty mouth right?” Jake let out almost like a plea as you weekly nodded and that was all Jake needed before he was holding the back of your head as his hips slammed against your face to chase his own release

You gurgled out chokes as you felt him deep into your throat, his heavy balls slapping your chin from his fast thrust as he fucked you like you were nothing more than just a toy for him. “Your mouth is absolutely perfect” He panted, feeling the build up in his stomach coming closer and closer

Jay who was circling your folds together, smirked seeing how you let Jake use you and he decided to be the second nice one out of the bunch and reward you. His slipped his fingers back into your gaping hole and you strained out a weak gasp, your oxygen levels dropping as you were filled from two holes.

“Taking what I give you so well” Jay hummed satisfied how you easily took his fingers back in, as if they were meant to always be buried in you

“Fuck!” Jake shouted as he stilled his thrust and his warm seed shot down your throat making sure he dumped everything in to have you swallow

He gave a few more shallow thrust before finally pulling away from your mouth with a pop, his lips shivering from the sudden hit of cold air on his wet warm cock. He weakly looked to you to see your dazed out expression, weak moans falling from your lips as Jay continued to slam his fingers into you.

Jake cooed seeing you cupping your face with his hands and rubbed his thumbs against them to ease you. You let out wet strained noises as Jake remained eye contact with you.

“Let go on his fingers” Jake’s soft voice sent jolts into your body and straight down to your stretched out hole

Those words caused you to clamp down harshly on Jay’s fingers as his other free hand found your swollen clit and harshly rubbed it. You squealed as you clawed onto Jake’s body who carefully held you.

“Give it to me like the good whore you are” Jay sneered as the stimulation was making you see stars but alongside of the usual build up in your stomach, you felt something else

You shook your head violently, realizing what he was trying to draw out of you. You tried to get away from Jay’s protruding fingers but Jake kept you in your place to continue sucking in Jay’s fingers

You screamed as the gush of stream shot out of you, drowning Jay’s finger, your swimsuit bottom and Jay’s lower body in your release. His fingers slipped out of you and messily rubbed away at your gushing hole, encouraging more of your release to burst out of you.

Your body jerked into Jake as he held you tightly, watching the scene in pure awe. He was going to need that moment tattooed into his brain.

“Shit that was so hot” Jay panted as you shivered violently from the high you were in as your body fell limped against theirs

Jay soothed your bum with his hand as if to tell you ‘good job’.

You could feel your body spent but it was far from over.

“Alright move it’s our turn” You faintly made out a voice through the ringing of your ear, you suddenly felt your body tussled from one to another with ease

You gasped and through the haze of your eyes, you looked to recognize Sunghoon, the first guy you saw on the beach.

“Hoon are you sure she can handle it? Look at her” Jake shoved his softened self back into his trunks as he pointed out your dazed expression and Sunghoon smirked before taping the side of your face with his hand

He smirked to your dazed expression as you stared at him with your teared filled eyes, “Of course she can, she’s such a good slut after all, aren’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing hearing the words thrown to you

You let out a whimper when you felt your swimsuit bottom be pulled the side once again but this time by Heeseung as he watched your closing and opening hole. “So fucking pretty”

“Don’t even think about it” Sunghoon warned as he noticed Heeseung taking in your glistening core with hungry eyes

Heeseung peered away from you to his friend surprised as he saw a stern look on Sunghoon’s face. “I saw her first, she’s mine” He slight shoved Heeseung away from you causing your swimsuit bottom to slip from his hand and snap against you making you squeal

“Shh it’s okay, gonna make it all feel good” Sunghoon whispered in your ear before suddenly pushing you into their poorly held blanket

You had your face down being able to feel the snow underneath the blanket against your face as your ass was raised high to be displayed.

All of sudden like a bunch of seagulls, all his friend flocked around as Sunghoon pulled your bottom to the side to catch glimpse of your dripping self. The moment was embarrassing, having four guys stare directly at your exposed self like it was the best thing to ever exist(to them it was).

Sunghoon’s quickly brought his trunks down just enough to have his harden cock spring out before he protruded it into your hole not wanting to waste anymore time that prevented him from feeling the paradise he knew you were. “Fu-Fuck Jay you didn’t prep her for shit! She’s still so fucking tight”

“How come you’re the first one to fuck her?!” Jay shouted as you struggled to take Sunghoon in your hole, gasping because it was true, you weren’t nearly prepared enough to take him

“Because I saw her first” Sunghoon grunted as he was finally able to bottom out, the grip on him almost made him cum right then and there as you panted by how full you felt

Yet, you didn’t have enough time to get used to his size stretching you out as he suddenly started to slam his hips to you. Your body was sent deeper into the blanket as you gasped loudly, feeling the sand underneath your hand as you clawed at the blanket for leverage.

Your whines soon became louder as Sunghoon sent a smack to the side of your ass loudly. “Sucking me in so good like you were made for this shit”

Your mouth fell slacked, moans, whimpers and babbles mixed together as your back was being blown out by Sunghoon.

His tip soon found the bundle of nerves in you that made your fall completely apart of his cock, “That’s right you fucking slut, fall apart of my cock- Just like that-“

You felt dizzy, the wind was getting knocked out of you by each of his harsh thrust, lead by primal need to fill you up.

“Gonna milk my cock? Going to be a good slut that’ll take everything I give you?” Sunghoon gruntled out as he could feel the knot forming in his stomach daring to snap

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You answered to his question, not having a full comprehension of what was being said but what you wanted was to milk him of everything he’s got

Sunghoon muttered multiple ‘fucks’ as his pace became brutal chasing the high, the way you tightened around him, the way that you kept sucking him back in when he tried to get even as little a more than midway away from you to slam his cock back into you.

Your hole gripped him like it never wanted him to leave as the wave of pleasure finally crashed down on you as you let out a loud moan as you came all over him. Sunghoon smirked and sent another smack to your ass, you whined loudly as his thrust finally started slowing down with grip on your hip that you knew there was no way there weren’t bruises left behind.

Sunghoon’s warm seed painted your velvet walls white, as he groaned, “Such a good fucking slut”

You whimpered as his twitching cock slipped out of you. He was covered in his and your release and he watched how his cum oozed out of you. Fuck he loved it so much.

“Out of my way Sunghoon” Heeseung shoved his friend to the side who tripped over his feet, “I drove over here, it’s only fair that I get to go second” Heeseung explained, excited to finally be getting in on the action after being deprived unlike his friends who at least did something with you

“Nu uh Hee” Heeseung felt a hand on his shoulder as he was pulled back to have Jay squeeze through behind you instead of him, “I’m the one driving back, I deserved to go second”

Heeseung mouth fell slack and the tent in his trunks twitched in desperation need as it realized that it was going to continue being deprived of relief.

Jay on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to rip out his aching self into his hand and gave a few stroke to himself, he saw how Sunghoon’s release came out of you and he felt the need to replace it with his own.

Your broken out noises turned into another loud gasp as you felt an even larger of a stretch by Jay who struggled to slip into you. “All about talking shit Sunghoon- Fuck!-But you didn’t even loosen her enough for me” Jay gruntled as your hole tried to get accustomed to the wider stretch

“O-oh my-“ You clawed harder onto the blanket as the stretch was almost too much for you to handle and Jay took notice of that

He cooed as he rubbed up and down your back, forcing yourself to arch even more for him, “Taking two cocks back to back, you really are a whore” He sneered as he tried to remain his usual composure as he moved painfully slow

You whined as you moved your hips to meet with his slow thrust and Jay smirked wildly seeing you were starting to fuck yourself on him.

Jay stopped his thrusting and let you do all the work. You weakly slammed your lower half against him trying to build up the pleasure lingering in your stomach. Jay’s hand rubbed your back as he watched his cock barely disappear inside of you from how shallow you were fucking yourself.

“Come on, you can go faster than that. Don’t you wanna come again?” Jay snarked and he could feel the pure desperation in your movements for him to take over

But he wasn’t going to take going to give you what you wished for. If you wanted him, you needed to prove that you do.

“Please” You begged, your hips not meeting his in the same fast pace you wished for, “Pl-please” Fresh tears spilled from your eyes

“Please what, I need words”

“Please fuck me, I’ll be good- Just please!” The scene before Jay was pathetic

“Never met such a cock hungry whore before, better take all I give you” And with that Jay snapped his hips hard to meet yours half wall causing you let out a loud moan

Jay didn’t have to time to waste, his fingers left indents right next to Sunghoon’s on your hip. “Tightest pussy ever” Jay groaned as all you could do was have your mouth open wide by the sheer stretch he gave your hole

You’ve never been this stretched out before and it made your mind turn into mush. “Such a fucking dumb whore who lets random guys fuck her on the beach, what if someone were to come and see?” Your hole clenched harder at the thought and Jay smirked, letting out a stifle laugh, “You like knowing that anyone could see you right now”

Your moans and sounds of skin slapping filled the beach as the waves crashed against the shore, the wetness not being able to match the wetness that gushed and stained your hole and Jay’s ramming cock.

His thrust only remained sloppy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass making you coat him in your release as you let out an obscene whine, “Perfect pussy” Jay praised as he felt you grip onto him that even almost forcing him out if it wasn’t for him continuing his raging pace.

“Al-almost there- Shit!” Jay thrust shot your body deeper and deeper, the overstimulation make your eyes roll to the back of your head wondering just how you were able to be in this position

Jay was brutal, merely using you for his own pleasures and it soon came for him as his thrust only got messier until his warm seed coated your already mixed velvet and white walls with his own release. He gave a few harsh thrust deep inside you to push his cum deeper than Sunghoon’s wanting to have his mark in you deeper than the others.

He groaned loudly, feeling the way you gripped him making sure you took everything he gave you without a single thing falling out. When he pulled out, Jay quickly shoved his fingers deep inside you to hold his cum in your hole. You squeaked feeling the replacement of his cock with his fingers. “Gotta make sure it stays in there”

You wailed feeling how your hole fluttered around his large fingers in you and how he would pump them slowly giving the excuse that there was some falling out and he couldn’t have you leaking.

However, there was a tap on Jay’s shoulder and he looked to see Jake who had a softer look in his eyes than him and Sunghoon, “Let me take care of her you assholes” Jake told as he motioned for his friend to move, seeing your fucked out expression and red filled with white hole

Jay scoffed as he harshly removed his fingers from you, seeing how it was coated beautifully by you. He admired his fingers before delivering a light smack followed by a few faint taps against your sore core making your shudder loudly.

Jake ushered his friend to move and Jay rolled his eyes, stuffing himself back into the restraints of his swimming trunks before finally letting his other friend have you.

Jake could feel the betrayal gaze on him and he knew Heeseung wanted to go next, badly too. But Jake saw the way Jay and Sunghoon had used you and that he needed to step in and treat you the way you should be treated for, like the gifted paradise you were for them.

“Hey it’s okay, I actually got you” Instead of continuing your position and having your face down and ass up, Jake carefully flipped your sensitive body around to have you facing him

The sunlight blinded your eye sight, your chest rising and falling from how heavy you were breathing but you could feel the pairs of hungry eyes on you as you laid sprawled in front of them, your dazed out expression, your fluttering hole that leaked the releases that it held. You looked perfect in their eyes.

And Jake was going to make sure you knew just how precious and perfect you are.

Instead of diving straight into your hole with his aching hard on, he wanted to treat you. Jake slotted himself in between you, raising your legs over his shoulder, his breathing fanning over your wet core, he gave butterfly kisses on your inner thigh as he traveled down further and further until he finally made contact with your wet heat.

You gasped, the overstimulation started to overwhelm you but Jake soothed your body with his warm hands, trying to help calm your jolting self.

As he gave open kisses, through the haze of stimulation, yours hands ached to tangle in his hair, his tongue gliding with ease as he buried himself in the sweet venom of you. His nose rubbing against your clit perfectly which finally made you finally claw at his hair. Jake groaned feeling your hands tangle with his already messy fluffy hair and that sent shivers running through as it added beautifully to the sensation of his mouth.

“Taste so sweet” Jake blabbed, “So fucking good, so addicting”

Jake continued to eat you out, his tongue teasing your entrance as his lips worked its wonders on you. The dazed feeling of his open mouth to it closing, sucking everything that was coming out of you. Jake could get lost in you and he was.

The way you tasted, the way he had you arching your back, your hands pulling against his hair as he could feel you closing in on his tongue, this was what Jake strived to forever be in.

Your mewls encouraged him further and right when you could feel the same build up in the stomach that you didn’t even know you could bring out again, Jake disconnect his mouth from you.

You closed your eyes whining how your orgasm was ripped away from you and you lazily looked to Jake who was panting heavily, the bottom of his face smeared with his own spit, your mixed arousals, as he stared at your desperate self. He leaned in once more to give a kiss on your swollen clit before raising his body to clash with yours.

You felt how Jake pressed himself against you as he softly whispered in your ear, “I’m sorry angel, need you to come on my cock instead” He placed a kiss on the side of your face, making your heart twist feeling the wet sensation on your face which it soon melted you as you feel his guided intrusion stretching you out a second later

You gripped his shoulders as he buried himself in the crock of your neck, his thrust allowing him to ease in more and more, his tip pushed further into you as his thrust were desperate but slow. Jake gripped your sides when he was able to find the pace that allowed him and you to feel even more than how you already were with each other, “Such a beautiful angel” His praises made your insides turn mushy as you let yourself get used to the tender side kisses and touches left by Jake

His buried cock slipping in and out of you with a growing pace and you started to feel how he was losing his sense of direction as he started to snap his hips faster into you, “Absolutely perfect- How can you be so- F-fuck” Jake felt your tightening hold on his cock as you wrapped your arms over his shoulder, your chest meshed with his and he shattered feeling the very mounds that he couldn’t get his mind off ever since he saw them

Jake’s hand grabbed your breast in his hand to squeeze like a personal stress ball as his body was succumbing to you. The touch to your sensitive mound made you shake as he only thrusted into you at his quick pace, “I’m- I’m gonna come-” Jake whined as he placed harsh kisses against you neck almost immediately finding your sweet spot which made you break

Just as you gripped him tighter, you felt the twitch of his cock as his thrust were growing frantic for his release, his hot breathe in your ear with endless praises, the hold on your boob growing tighter as the thrust into you were finally becoming sharp thrusts.

His spurts shot inside of you which prompted your own release as yours and Jake’s mixed pleasure came together, coating each other in your releases.

You shivered feeling the new load in your already full stomach, Jake’s pants filled your ears and he continued to place the kisses all of your chest and collarbone, “You did so good angel, the best ever” Jake tried to soothe your shivering self as you heavily panted, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to get used to the warmth of his body with you but that was taken away from you as you felt Jake achingly pull himself out of you

You felt the emptiness once again as he planted a kiss to your worn out knee, a sign of affection before leaving your sore body on the blanket, your expression too far beyond any comprehension.

Jake didn’t want to leave you, wanting to continue relishing in your warmth that engulfed him but he couldn’t be selfish, not when he knew that there was someone else, his own friend who’s been patiently waiting long enough.

When Heeseung realized it was finally his turn, the weight on his shoulder felt heavier instead of lighter, he stared at you with a crazed expression knowing he had to go out with a bang.

You body still shuddering trying to come down from your high and the new addition of release inside of you. You closed your eyes trying to catch you breath when suddenly you felt your weak legs be spread open and you shot your eyes open to see Heeseung staring at your messy sticky hole coated with his friends and yours release. His unreadable expression made your heart hammer against your chest, your mind too fucked out to even try and attempt to see what was going through his head.

Yet, the only thing that coursed through his head was the thought and determination to completely fill you up to the brim.

You exposed on full display for him made him let out a dopey smile before diving his face right into you. Feeling the stride of Heeseung’s tongue on you made you squeal as you blabbed that you couldn’t take anymore, the overstimulation hazed your senes, it being too much for you.

But you could feel the smirk against your core as Heeseung gave it a few kisses and harsh pulls with his teeth making you yelp loudly.

“Come on, you have one more cock to take” Heeseung laughed as he pulled away, his thumb rubbing over your core before lightly intruding it but just as quickly as he gave you that taste, he ripped it away from you

You pathetically let out a whine even though you were complaining you couldn’t take anymore, “Shh it’s okay, I know what you want. Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you” And just like that without a moment wasted, Heeseung pulled himself out, smearing his tip filed with precum with your mess before lightly intruding your hole with his tip that slipped in with ease thanks to his friend’s and yours mixed arousal

You threw your head back into the depths of the blanket feeling the sand that was molded to you head by how much you were pressed onto it. Heeseung soon pushed his tip painfully slower into you and the stretch and his length made your mind go on overdrive and there were no more thoughts in your head. Just thinking about the paradise beach guys.

“Yo-You’re taking me so well..- Shit! You actually are perfect” Heeseung grumbled, feeling himself get lost in you by the sheer amount of pleasure you were giving him

After hearing how well you’ve been taking them, it soared your dark ego as you continued to bathe in the degradation and praises you were receiving for being just so good to them.

He didn’t allow himself to bottom out, wanting to start now rather than later as he’s been the only one deprived for so long unlike his friends. Your body melted into the more easy pace, seeming like he wanted to take his time with you, to have his cock memorize your insides and see which thrust would be able to have you see stars and crumble just for him.

Heeseung’s hands soothed your aching hips as his pelvis would meet yours with slow but harsh thrust, it made your sealed breast to move within the restraints of your swimsuit and Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. He bundled up the top of your swimsuit before yanking it down to release your held breast to witness the beauty of them bouncing with each of his thrust.

The sight of it made his pace stutter and one of his hand gripped your right one, his left hand holding your waist to continue his deep thrust into you. His fingers played with your perky harden nipples which made your body jump, shaking your head as you felt the overstimulation of the sensation mess with your soul.

He pinched your nipple hard when he finally found the spot needed that made you squeal, muttering how you couldn’t possibly take anymore. The tip of his cock kissing your insides perfectly and he darkly chuckled hearing your babbles.

“You can take it- You‘ll take it like the good girl you are” Heeseung’s deep and calculated thrust into you made sure of it, you were going to give him another one and you were going to take what he gives you

Your mind already mushy, you only nodded in acceptance. You knew your babbles weren’t true. You would take what he gives you just like how he said you would. Your cries and moans mixed with the crashing waves of the ocean.

Your hands found the wrist of his hand that continued to pull and pinch your nipple as he simultaneously matched his thrust with the pull your already hard nipple. Your face scrunched harshly from your senses being thrown away as your ears rung, only hearing the waves crashing against the shore.

And right when a large wave crashed, so did you.

You clamped down harshly on Heeseung, who groaned at the sensation of you tightening around him and he lost control as he started to slam his hips into you in order to chase his own high. Your soft moans soon grew louder as ‘uhs’ left your mouth, your boobs bouncing faster.

“S-shit, gonna take me for all I’m worth” Heeseung spat and you only chanted ‘yes’ nonstop until one final harsh thrust lead to the emptying of his balls filled of him to litter your hole with his release.

And just like his promise, he filled you to the brim that it was almost impossible to know if you would ever stop leaking after being pumped so full of cum. Your body too tired and spent as you closed your eyes and heaved heavily trying to come back from the heavy trance they left you in. Heeseung pulled out and all of the friends gathered around to watch your hole leaking out of all of their release alongside yours.

You were the perfect paradise sent their way in order to experience what summer is supposed to truly be like.

Sunghoon who held a marker in hand used his mouth to bite the cap off throwing it off somewhere into the sand as he walked over to your spent self, carefully picking up you aching leg which made you shiver and he rubbed his thumb in a calming matter, smirking at the scene before bringing the marker on your skin.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

You looked down to your littered body, seeing the faint dried up splotches of cum that you didn’t know who it belonged to, the faint indents of their fingers left on your hips.

But what made your heart hammer to your chest were the four phone numbers on your body. Your left forearm having Jake’s number with a small ‘:)’ next to his name.

Jay writing his number on the back of your hand as it trailed to the bone of your wrist with just ‘J’ next to it. While Heeseung wrote down his number on the back of you calf which you had to take a picture of in order to properly see the number and the small ‘Hee’ he added with a dash next to it

While Sunghoon wrote his number in crevice on your inner thigh that was close to your fucked out hole from all that it was put through. But along with Sunghoon’s name with his number he wrote a simple note next it.

‘Call us’

The beach was indeed a paradise like its names as it now held the best memory to date of the perfect summer for all five of you.

——

[monstersholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.