#🦢​ writes

[lalunanymph]

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — m. reo

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 saving the world, one coerced check at a time

tw. husband!reo, reader was an air stewardess, t!t job, deep throat, edging, riding, 1 slap (not towards reader), talks of climate change, both reader and reo are switches, coercion

tagging @katasstrophy riv it’s been way too long since we last talked about this but here’s the husband!reo piece i was being a menace with (like finally)

Reo Mikage was a lot of things. 

A husband. A philanthropist. A soccer player with a huge legacy. 

But, he also had a huge ego deep enough to rival the Marianas Trench. Good quality food, high class hotels and exceptional services at restaurants were something he would never compromise on. Another thing which he would never bend for? Shoddy charities.

“Always a new one popping up every damn time,” he grumbled next to you, scrolling through his phone. “You gotta wonder if the government is controlling them.”

You, on the other hand, were his exceptionally giving wife. Your days as an air stewardess filled you with grit and knowledge of different views—opened you up to worlds of possibilities where the idea of a better world was right within reach. You grew up with a sense of responsibility for the environment. What humans gave to mother nature, it would be returned back tenfold.

Reusing, recycling and reducing were important in your life. Sadly, Reo was not of the same opinion as you were.

He was brought up in a life of excess. Surplus flowed in his blood with the idea of more guiding his life. He strived to do more, see more, gain more. Always and every time without fail. 

“They’re trying to help save the planet, love,” you hummed, curling yourself onto his chest. Reo tutted and pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up the slope of his defined nose, curling one defined arm around your waist. 

“Fat load of help that would be. You should put your money where your mouth is if you want to achieve such a feat. Tch.”

Your stomach sank slightly at his words. You never expected him to spew such a fascinating statement. The text you had received from a long-time friend burned in your messages, and you had mulled over how to respond to it. How to respond to her desperate plea to help support her waning environmental lobbying agency.

Kira Ryosume was one of your oldest colleagues. She was a dear friend who offered you a lot of advice when you were just a novice air stewardess. She was a decent person who deserved to have her dreams come to life.

A dream of finally passing an environmental bill which would mandate large corporations to register for the Carbon-Neutral Treaty. As expected, none of these businesses wanted to take part in such an altruistic event unless their bottom line would be greatly boosted.

¥20 million. She needed that amount to even think about publishing the treaty.

You flattened your lips and eyed your husband. Mikage Reo’s defined abs and biceps pulsed in the half-light from the designer lampshades by your side table. After two years of marriage, Reo was still delectable to you—one of the finest men you ever had the pleasure of sleeping with. After all, he had made the impossible possible by getting you to commit to him for your entire life.

Slowly, your hands roamed down his torso, touching the notched scars of his body from those years he played pro on the soccer fields of the world. Grazing his rosy pink nipples, you heard his hitched breath exhaled in your hair, spurring you on. Counting the moles on his abdomen, you gently traced the burst of his lilac happy trail, leading straight to the sharp ‘V’ carved delicately above the band of his sweatpants.

“Sweetheart,” he grunted, unable to stop your caresses because why would he? 

Reo lived for any attention you gave him. 

The one thing you were intimately acquainted with about your beloved husband was that he hated anything which was not a challenge. Truly—a consequence from his upbringing which saw him getting everything he wanted anytime. Your lips curved upwards into a sinful smile. He was always so fun to ruin.

Achingly slow now, you tugged the expensive Calvin Klein band down, dipping your fingers beyond it to graze his stirring length. Reo’s hips started to tick when you massaged the flushed pink tip between your thumb and forefinger, though he tried to play it cool.

Unexpectedly, you tightened your fist around his length, drawing it up slowly, and your grin grew wider when you felt a spurt of wetness running down your wrist. 

Reo hissed and set his phone down onto the side table, removing his glasses. His abdomen tightened, and you felt his heart thump unevenly under your cheek. You perched your chin on his left pec, gazing deeply into his glassy lilac eyes. Judging from his flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips, he was already drunk on your touch, his will crumbling to leave him susceptible to your misdoing.

And you loved the rush of power it elicited in you. 

“What’s gotten into you?” 

His voice was a low, scratchy whimper. You pressed yourself closer to him, lips in the hollow of his neck, the teasing puffs of your hot breath raising goosebumps on his skin. 

“Can’t I pleasure my own husband?” you breathed, batting your lashes at him. Completely having him at your mercy. 

Reo grunted, his mid-length purple locks brushing your shoulder when he used one large hand to part your thighs, cupping your mound. In retaliation, you snapped your legs closed, trapping his hand there and giving him a grin in response to his confusion.

“Wanna focus on you, baby.”

He moaned in surprise when he felt your wrist twisting around his leaking cock head. “I—hah—w-wait…” You started to jerk him off faster now, and Reo’s chest took on such a pretty flush you couldn’t resist tonguing his pebbled nipple. 

Your husband was not an idiot. He had years of experience to sense that you were trying to get something out of him by riling him up. Though, Reo was drawing a blank as to what exactly you needed.

“You w-want something,” he tried to sound accusatory, but it came out as a breathless mewl instead. “S’that true? T-tell me.”

You unlatched your lips from his throbbing nipple, doe eyes wide on him as you slowed down your pace. Reo’s hips stuttered, that glassy look in his eye growing lucid at your little laugh.

“You got me.” Sitting up, you kept your palm loosely around his cock, shifting your hair out of the way to slip your nightgown straps down, revealing your perky nipples to the cool room. Reo groaned at the sight of you shifting in between his legs, that vixen-like smirk still on your face and his cock now in between your breasts.

The sight of a globe of spit falling from your mouth and onto his throbbing tip made him curse under his breath. Reo stopped you before you could put him in your mouth with a hand on your cheek, his expression flustered and brows knitted.

“Well? What is it? A new bag? More clothes? Tell me what you want, my love, and I’ll try to make it happen.”

It was remarkably easy to leave your husband in a bind with such simple actions, especially when you pretended to think his preposition through, letting him stew in his frustrated silence, the hand around his cock still leisurely pumping him up and down up and down base to tip base to tip until he shuddered lightly.  

“L-Love?” 

“¥20 million,” you murmured, and before he could react at the amount, you dragged your tongue slowly and seductively across his soaked head, lapping at the beads of precum staining down his length. Leaving him reeling from both the pleasure and the shock of such a demand. 

Reo jerked back like he had been electrocuted, hissing loudly. “Fuck! F-fuck… what do you need with that much money?” He fisted your hair in one hand, completely entranced by your plush lips wrapped around his cock.

You let him go with a soft pop, humming. “You said it earlier. Those damn environmental agencies. I want to donate some money to them to help them solve the pollution companies like yours cause.”

Reo’s eyes widened, and he sputtered indignantly; his fury lost in a moan when you started to deepthroat him.

“Shit,” he cussed, low and hoarse, watching you with heavy, lidded eyes when you need to bob your head up and down his cock. “S’all it is to it? You wanted to play a hero? Baby, you started to try harder than that.”

You hummed around his length, fully expecting his resistance. Drooling around his pulsing length, your eyes met his, framed by your determination, he could only fist the sheets as you took him down to the hilt. Reo groaned, loud and husky, when your nose touched his lilac pubic hair. 

“S-shit, baby… you know that’s not fair…”

Reo’s whine was adorable, and so was his cluelessness to the next ace you had up your sleeve. Keeping your teary eyes locked on his, you started to shallowly use your mouth as a makeshift sleeve to tighten and suck his cock for what it was worth. 

He could barely hold back a loud yelp when you played with his balls along with your maddening movements.

You sensed he was close from his heavy breathing. Reo was fisting your hair for dear life, his thighs trembling underneath your body.

Before his pleasure could culminate in one swooping orgasm, you pulled back, letting a weak stream of his cum hit your chin. Ruining his release with an angelic smile.

Reo sagged back against the pillows, huffing like he had just finished a game. “Fuck… you’re mean…” 

In answer to his astute observation, you licked your lips and gathered his cum slowly dripping down your jaw to suck it off your finger. His taste was clean and musky, and you made sure to show him how much you appreciated it.

“Mmm… you taste so good, baby.” 

Reo whimpered at the sight of you fully removing your nightgown, leaving you in the nude. 

You took the chance to straddle his lap, manicured nails wrapping around his cock again and tugging playfully. 

“Changed your mind yet, rich boy?” You had not used that taunt on him for years now since the both of you had gotten married. Reo’s nostrils flared, his blood rushing south once more to thicken his girth in your teasing hold. The number of times he had punished you for calling him that stupid term… and you were riling him back up, spreading your legs and circling his leaking tip around your soaked entrance. 

You were asking for it now.

Reo enjoyed knocking you down a peg or two when he flipped you onto your back, your wide eyes and tiny squeak sending his ego to the orbit.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, fisting his length and slowly easing into you, splitting you wide open with his thickness and determination. Your nails stabbed into his shoulders, and your cry of ecstasy was smothered by his palm over your mouth. “You drive quite the hard bargain there, missy and I’m interested.”

Your muffled wails soothed him; made a woozy smile appear on his face. Such a pretty little crybaby, Reo thought. Too bad you tried to take control of him. It was a shame. He was prepared to give you enough orgasms tonight to leave you bed bound tomorrow. He watched, entranced, as your eyes rolled back into your head, only the glimmering whites exposed.

All the teasing you did culminated in a slippery mess between your legs. It looks like Reo wasn’t the only one affected by your teasing. 

His smirk deepened when he moved one hand in between your sweaty, writhing bodies, thumbing your clit in greasy circles; holding you down as you tried to push him off from the overstimulation. 

Reo chuckled, low and deep, when your mewls reached his ears.

“Always have to put you back in your place, huh?” He breathed, cocking one perfect lilac brow up. “When will you learn? You’re mine. I own you. You can’t just pull this shit on me.”

Somehow, his fingers ended up in your mouth, choking you while pinning your tongue down to the base of your throat. 

Reo clicked his tongue, arrogance dripping from his faux grin of sympathy when you buckled and twisted in his hold. “Too much?” 

Your garbled rendition of his name had the monster in him feening for more of your submission. He clasped one hand around your neck, holding you down as he parted your lips with one sturdy thumb.

“Open wide. Wider.” 

You obediently unhinged your jaw, slowly unfurling your tongue out for his scrutiny. Reo wasted no time in gathering a globule of spit, letting it dangle teasingly from his lips before the taste of him smothered your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You do, your walls rippling around him in response to his dominance. 

“Fuck. S’a good girl.” His unexpected praise makes both your pussy and heart clench; leaving you yearning for more. 

Reo could play nice and let you take the lead on some days, but tonight, you had pushed his buttons hard enough.

His cock drilling into you was enough of an indication of his frustration, and the ex-pro player didn’t care for your high strung whines when he pulled out of your swollen depths, about to leave you unsatisfied and covered with his cum when you rolled him onto his back, swiftly gripping his wrist to impede his movement. 

Reo yelped, and before he could chastise you, your palm landed lightly across his cheek. The simmering orgasm you had started an hour ago fizzled in his veins, and he growled, jaw and cock smarting. “Why you—”

His words were cut off by your lithe fingers slipping him back into your heat. Reo was powerless to stop you from sensually grinding down his cock, your half-hooded eyes and quivering tits enough of a consolation for his wounded ego when you took back the power and control. Those large, veiny palms of his cupped the flesh of your ass, kneading surely, appreciatively. Enjoying the sight of his wife riding him to oblivion as his cock twitched and tightened once more.

The coil in his belly started to tighten, and before he could completely blow his load, you stopped all movement. 

It took every ounce of self-control he had to not jackhammer up into you like a mad dog, a snarl twisting his handsome features.

“Y/N—”

“Sign the check,” you murmured, leaning back slightly to give him a full view of his cock splitting apart your messy folds. It was strategic—this little seduction game of yours. You knew he couldn’t resist watching you play with yourself, his voyeuristic nature emerging to greedily drink in the sight of your curves contrasting with the hard planes of his abs. Reo gulped audibly when you traced one hand down your torso slowly, straight to your throbbing clit; rubbing yourself right in front of your stunned husband.

His purple eyes grew hazier, like he was close to dropping into a stupor. Unbidden, his mouth fell open and soft little pants emanated in choked exhales that were endearing.

“The check, Reo,” you mumbled firmly, picking up your pace, arching your back and using your knees to support you on the soft mattress while you flexed and bucked your hips around his aching length. The promise of his release hung like dew in the air, close enough for him to taste; to quench himself off the thirst. 

He snapped the same moment you gasped, hanging onto the cliffedge of your sanity; your pussy shivering and begging to cum around his girth.

“Fine!” he spat out like a curse, and as if his words were a dam, the explosive passion sprung forth, drowning the both of you in its currents. “I’ll sign the damn thing later. Now. Ride. Me.”

Reo’s punctuated command broke into a growl, and you spared no more time bracing your hands on his shoulder, swivelling and circling your hips like your life depended on it. Like your sanity relied on the feeling of his hot cum shooting straight into your womb.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and the bruising grip he had around your hips was unyielding. 

You screamed out his name, lost in the ecstatic stupor of both your bodies joining together; rejoicing for a release which was sorely denied for these past few agonising hours. You felt like you had turned into jelly; your body sagged forward, mind in a dizzying circle.

He brought you into the sanctuary of his chest, arms like steel ropes around you as he met your grinding with a few hard thrusts of his own; bringing the both of you down the edge and straight into blissful hellfire.

The flames licked at your abdomen, your throat, leaving you teary-eyed and whining his name.

Reo’s purple mane was a mess, bleeding across his pillow like an ink spill. His harsh breathing collided with your cheek, and you moaned his name, shifting lightly in his arms. Feeling his cock twitch and his cum drip out of you. 

“Reo…”

He hummed, kissing your temple—a sweet ending to such an intense session. “I’ll send the check to you tomorrow, my love.” Your beloved husband rested in the afterglow, stamping another soft kiss onto your forehead absentmindedly while your breathing evened out. “You know I can never refuse you. Consider it my late birthday present for you.”

“But, you already gifted me that Hermès bag, love,” you mumbled, trying hard to not droop off into sleep. “You spoil me too much…”

“Isn’t that what I promised you when we got married?” He huffed a laugh. “I told you—just ask me, baby.”

His words landed on the soft terrain of your unconsciousness, and Reo sensed more than saw you drifting off. His expression broke into a tender smile, and he smoothed his warm, rough palms down your bare back.

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

With your body fitted snugly against his like a jigsaw piece, Reo let himself drift off to join you in sleep, amused at your wily ways to get him to say yes. 

Why you did it, he would never know. 

After all, Reo meant what he said when he told you to just ask him next time. 

He meant it when he said he would do anything for you.

— feedback and rbs are appreciated <33

© all work belongs to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[xyaehir]

sitting in bed, thinking about suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro.

like the second he’s added into his volleyball groupchat, kita’s writing some long and detailed paragraphs about their new training regimen to practice for their next match.

suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro taps on the notification and just stares for a good 10 seconds before leaving his message on seen and switching his phone off to go nap somewhere.

then the next day rolls around and he’s completely clueless about the new routine and frankly slightly worried about the long earful of a lecture kita’s going to give him.

but when you send him 3 detailed and double-spaced paragraphs ranting about what put you in a bad mood, suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro is suddenly suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro.

suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro is immediately replying at the speed of light with his own paragraphs about how baffled he is that all those things happened to you.

and then atsumu does the same thing and suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro is back to suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro, reacting to his 8 paragraphs with a thumbs up.

if u tell me someone already thought of this istg. anyways, i love this middle blocker sm i need him to be WHIPPED and giving special treatment 😣 not edited cz its 3:02 am rn..

@xyaehir 2024. This is my content. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! <3

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

❥‧ be soft with me (김승민)

in which: as much as seungmin acted like he didn't care. there were a few days where he couldn't hold in his love for you.

genre: fluff rating: n/a. wc: < 300 pairing: seungmin x reader masterlist.

warnings: n/a

a/n: I know this is a really random drabble im totally not trying to apologize for the heart break you guys are going to go through this week when i post the first actual 1k event post ;-;

You walked into your apartment, and slipped off your shoes, setting your bag down on the table as you passed by it. "I'm home." You said, walking into the main room, finding it empty. You made a face, peeking into the kitchen then the bathroom, "Seungm-"

Arms wrapped around you from behind and you almost jumped, if it wasn't for your boyfriend's familiar scent clouding over you.

"Hi.." He muttered into your shoulder.

You reached up and patted his head. "Hi..."

Seungmin nuzzled into your shoulder and you giggled. "That tickles."

"Missed you." He squeezed you a bit tighter.

You smiled slightly. It was a rare occurrence for Seungmin to admit he missed you. "Did you?"

He huffed into your shoulder, pulling you away from the bathroom and steering your feet to your shared bedroom. "Don't push it."

You turned in his arms as you reached your bedroom and kissed his nose. "I need to take a shower."

Seungmin made a face and turned so his back was to the bed, he hugged you tightly and flopped back onto the mattress. "Not yet."

"Seungmo I need to go-"

He squeezed you. "Stay here a little while more."

You sighed and relaxed, "Okay."

As much as Seungmin wouldn't admit it, he loved quiet moments with you like this. And you loved it all the more.

"Get off me you smell like train and office building." Seungmin muttered after half an hour.

You glared at him.

He smiled and kissed you gently.

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK !

➤ taglist

@asahisimpnation @seolarsonlyloveisyou @leeknowsnot @oddracha @palindrome969

@armystay89 @bubblespop @honeyybbuubblleess @igetcarriedawaywithyou @seungminindabuilding

@ot8 @rylea08 @todorokiskitten @stay-tiny-things @boi-bi-ahaha

@bookswillfindyouaway @pinkdranks

[cevherien]

Ellie Williams, ྀི♡

Yandere Alphabet Headcanons

Along with your blood, sweat and fresh wounds.

Warnings Yandere, Smut, Angst, Blood and Gore, Violence, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lesbian Sex, ww, Sapphic, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Verbal Humiliation, Abuse, Toxic relationship

Also, hey. Dark content. Clearly. Kidnapping and yandere business is never consensual so keep that in mind.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Before Ellie started showing her lovesick tendencies, you'd thought that she was just the type of girl to be possessive over her loved ones, like a protective dog. But the more into the relationship you got the more intense her obsession became.

Insufferably jealous and easily irritable.

During sex she started getting rougher with you, leaving more visible marks across your body with her skilled mouth. Mumbling curses under her breath about how she couldn't bare to lose you, how you were meant to be. How much you meant to her.

"Tell me you'll never leave me angel, say it." she'd urge while two fingers knuckle deep into your sweet pussy, the pussy that belongs to her and her only. Curling them to your G-spot with ease, getting you to the edge with only simple movements.

With the way she blurs your thoughts, head in the stars with the satisfaction of each stroke, you can't get yourself to respond. All that leaves your lips are moans and the occasional call for her name.

Now that just won't do.

She'd grab your chin with her free hand, fingers squeezing your cheeks with a little more force than necessary, "I said tell me, tell me how much you need me." her fingers stop their movement so you can focus on her words better. "Say you'll never leave. Promise."

That night was the first time you saw such a dangerous spark in her pupils, one that spoke volumes about what was about to come.

"I promise, Ellie."

Not like you had a choice in her eyes.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Real messy.

We all know she gets the job done, she is no rookie in the killing game. This is not something new for her, the killing atleast.

But now she has you, she swore to be more careful to not get any unwanted attention from people but it's not her fault that a pretty little thing like you attract the worst kind of pesticides. She won't even dare call them human, just filth. Filth that wants to take you away. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.

-

Ellie violently stabs the now completely unrecognizable corpse. Been going at it even after it died. This little piece of shit had its eyes on you. Undeserving little whore that was, thinking it had a chance.

Her angry screams fill the night along with the wet splash of blood everywhere leaving god knows how many stab wounds behind.

Ellie pulls back away, but not without spitting at it for one last time.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Never. You are her sweetheart, her lifeline. The blood that pumps in her veins, it's all for you. The breath in her lungs rushes in for you and her heart beats with the contagious love she carries for you.

But the catch is, she expects the same from you. It's only fair, no? If Ellie is to dedicate her all for you, she thinks you should be doing just the same.

She worships you, quite literally.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Anything thats for your own good, for your own safety. She knows what's best for you, always. The more you deny, the more pervasive and stubborn she'll get, leaving you no freedom left whatsoever.

But in her eyes your freedom belongs to her. Just like how you do too. Her precious baby, all for her to love on, all for her to adore.

She doesn't acknowledge or recognize your autonomy & consent in times like this, yet ask her, she'll deny rape. Afterall, aren't you her sweet girlfriend, soon to be wife, darling, angel? ,,All her's so she doesn't really need to ask.’’

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Ellie is absolutely infatuated with you. We know that, whats new?

She is truly her genuine self with you, shows you all her colors, which also -unfortunately- includes the ugly aspects. Since she loves you this much, why can't you excuse her imperfections? Love her as she is. as the monster she has become

Disinterested and rude as she may be to others, to her angel she is a saint.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Betrayed, confused and scared..? You were supposed to be by her side no matter what. No matter. You promised. Come back. Don't go. Please don't leave.

Was she too overwhelming for you? Was her love too much?

That night she makes her plans for the abduction.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

She isn't playing when it comes to you, she can't have you abandon her. Ellie genuinely believes she's better off dead without you.

Foreshadowing

Oh and don't even try your luck running away, your first few attempts were futile and she had gotten more paranoid and violent after each try, leaving you no choice but hope for someone else to come get you. But Ellie would make sure nobody even knew of you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably first week of the kidnapping, just freshly captured and kept in Ellies basement for the time being, until you accept the shackles your new life, she'd be keeping you safe and sound.. or with no sound with the gags she used on you.

In her defense, you were screaming too much, tch her poor baby. You might just damage your throat and that just won't do. It's for your own well being baby, she swears.

"It hurts me more than it hurts you puppy, you know that."

-

The night that she drugged you, once too many times, she'd swore upon her love for you that this would be the last time. Since.. you won't be needing that no more, Ellie had planned this long before but now that it was finally happening, it felt surreal.

But hell, she couldn't keep her promise.

Why'd you have to misbehave so much? Just sit tight and enjoy your new life with her; getting used to it would take time, sure, but she had that in mind when she captured you, giving you some alone time in the basement to.. ehm, cope for a lack of a better word, cope with the loss of your old life, your freedom, your ways of living.

And soon yourself.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

After the difficult first two weeks in the basement with a fit thrown every other day, it was inevitable for your resolve to slowly crumble, shattering into in salvageable pieces like the shards of a broken wine glass; knocked, devastated, broken.

And that's exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She had too many things in mind for you: wife you up, keep you safe in her grasp. Her little doll to do whatever she desired. But planning too far ahead was never Ellies forte, you knew that. Her kidnapping you was impulsive and selfish, and she doesn't regret it one bit.

But for now, she'll just have you all by herself. Keep you naked for her viewing pleasure, her sweet insatiable eye candy you were.

Just sit pretty, thats all you had to do.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Once she feels like you finally accept her and your new life she would start taking you out occasionally, not too much though, and you can't leave her side not even for a second. Ground rules are to be followed, and thats one absolute.

And at days when she felt jealous or envious, sometimes for absolutely no reason, she'd take it out on a complete stranger she claims looked your way weird or stared at you for too long. When she doesn't have anybody else to blame she takes it out on you.

"Baby how could you do something like this to me? Betraying me and my trust like that..?" she'd spit on your face while fingers digging through the sensitive skin of your cheeks, "Is that what you are, bitch? A whore?"

"Ellie please-"

"A fucking whore that tries to seduce anyone she possibly can, and for what huh? All you need is me, don't you get it-!"

With that Ellie has her way with you for the rest of the night. Nose buried deep into your cunt, sniffing in your scent while she sobs as you are too tired to shed more tears. She'd apologize a mantra, yet your body would be too boneless tired and overstimulated to even respond. You'd only be hearing her pleading in tidbits in your state.

sorrybaby sosorrybaby imsosorry iloveyou please pleasedontleave dontleave me please dont leave

-

Before the usurp, before she opened your eyes as to what kind of person she truly was, before all the trauma and abuse, when you two were just an unconventionally overloving couple, she'd be constantly on your neck about how other people had their eyes on you and how she wasn't having it. You'd shrug it off with 'they don't matter to me', 'you're the only one for me Ellie.' or 'why does it matter, just ignore them'

At first she'd listen to you, but time pass, and her impulses get heavier to control leading her to murder them, or worse, torture them behind your back. And things would only escalate from there.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Like a primal fucking animal.

Groping your ass every chance she got, one hand one your waist constantly as if something or someone was going to take you away from her.

Hands exploring your inner thighs when sitting together, occasionally going in too deep and settle on top of your crouch, just lets it linger there. Arousal hits your core in times like this, guilt getting harder to swallow with how enticing her touch is, yet her hand doesn't move. Just holds it still as to tell 'this pussy belongs to me' her eyes recite the same story, 'she's mine right? my cunt.'

When she has you naked, fingers in your mound just fingerwarming your wet pussy barely moving and avoiding your clit and leaking hole, only maybe caressing your puffy wet lips if she's feeling generous. Afterall, you were but trouble at times, and she was just giving you a lesson. Patience.

She was doing much more than you deserved, with how ungrateful you were, she was convinced.

But with the way your nails would imprint on her forearms and wrists, her name falling with heavy moans as you whine for your sweet most anticipated release, she'd give in and slide two fingers in, just easily with the way you were creaming all over her palm.

And when your orgasm finally hits, you cry out with so much pent up satisfaction that it would make Ellie hurl. Music to her fucking ears.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Ellie is hardly around people, and if she is, she's stoic and serious. Really not much of a people person, not anymore atleast. The only person she needs is you, anyway. Why would she bother with incompetent fools.

The only time she's around people is when she's out on a deputy, and it doesn't take her long to come back considering she skillfully handles the missions with ease, swift and faithful with the thoughts of you at home. Home. What a foreign concept made possible by you.

But what could be said is, Ellie has an impossible to read Poker-Face. Try as they might, no use. She's a mystery to everyone but you. She shows the real Ellie to you and you only.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Sex. Ellie uses sex both as a gratification and as a punishment. It might sound dubious but really, is the least painful thing she does. Atleast on your end, it makes you feel good even for the shortest of time. Goddamn her and her masterfully talented hands and tongue.

Everytime you cum for her you feel guilty, guilty for feeling good in your situation. Guilty for liking the rape.

Guilty for starting to crave your kidnapper.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She's certainly patient with you, as long as you don't make a fuss, she'll tolerate you quite fine.

Just.. don't try to leave her, that won't end well.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You're not going anywhere, she's convinced herself that. Atleast not physically. You're binded to her as long as you live. But what if you die. Then what?

Then she dies too, that simple. If you were killed, she'll seek revenge and pull another Abby hunt before she commits. But more violent this time around, the second time losing someone so close, this close, and now she truly has nothing else to lose.

Her death would be quick and smooth with a revolver to her head. Not wasting any time, she wants to see you again. Maybe in an afterlife. Ellie's never been a believer, she never believed in that kind of stuff, but for you she wants to. She hopes to.

With the pull of her trigger she'd go out effortlessly. Her body going limp with a subtle smile on her lips, ready to see you once again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Regretting kidnapping you? No way in heaven or hell, that was the best thing she'd ever done, the only right thing -she's pretty convinced - she's ever done.

But after every punishment you receive, the smallest resemblance of humanity left in her twinges. Not enough for her to stop or change her ways though. Just an uncomfortable little shiver up her spine.

She's not ever letting you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

All her life, Ellie's been abandoned wether they intended to leave her or not. She'd been left alone for too long, nothing was ever permanent in her life. Every thing and everyone she'd loved and cared for had turned into nothing but a figment of her memories.

... Joel was her breaking point.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She's conflicted when it comes to this, at one hand it turns her on. She can't really explain why. ever heard of a fetish Ellie? But it also hurts her soul to see you suffer like that. And for what?

For you to get used to her that is. If then, she finds no mean in interfering with that. When it comes to that point of denying her so much that you isolate yourself for days, she knows your resolve is about to break soon.

It's just a matter of time before you fully give in.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Definitely the love and admiration she has towards you. She cherishes you so much to the point that, she would not only kill but die for you.

Do what you will with that information.

But she will certainly be hesitant with the self sacrifice route, since she doesn't want to leave you alone. What would you possibly do if she died?

Especially since she made sure to mindbrand you shamelessly.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

This goes without saying but she truly believes there is nothing more serene than having you under her touch, besides wasn't all the hussle she went through just to have you enough to prove it?

And the worship doesn't stop there, not with the murders or the sex. With her devoting everything she is to you, it's only a matter of time for you to get lost and be over consumed by her lust love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

You're not aware but she'd been watching you left and right for years. Not making a single mistake in her ways or getting caught.

Never thought she would even end up with you at first, but when a night in the bar had you two all over eachother - definitely not because she spiked your drink, it was all for you she says - and fucking like animals all night she asked you on a date and things progressed.

You were completely oblivious to the fact that this was her plan all along. You only thought of her as a faithful encounter, a one night stand turned into your new girlfriend. But Ellie had something completely different in mind.

-

You have no idea how painful it is for her to be away from you, like ever. After Ellie kidnapped you, she still had to work to keep things moving. Which meant being away from home, from you.

Her being away so often left you all alone in the house, resolve broken from the emotional manipulation she'd been doing to you for so long.

In the earlier days of the abduct you had tried to escape, multiple times. But after some time -and a lot of abuse- you'd became completely dependent on her. The plan she had worked wonders, breaking your resolve and keeping you all to herself till the end of days.

Now you just wait for her arrival like a loyal little puppy. Stockholm syndrome so strong that you feel stressed and anxious when she's not around.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Her poor little innocent angel, you don't know any better now, do you? It breaks Ellie's heart to see you hurt, see you so out of it and shattered, but it had to be done.

When she first took you in and you rejected to eat or drink anything, let alone spare her a glance, it became the only option. Had to have you one way or another. Either you'd eventually submit to your new life or she'd have to get you get used to it.

Has to have you to the point of no return in which you feel the constance of time breathing down your neck everytime you're not with Ellie, not under her touch, not near her warmth. Craving her like some drug. Completely dependent on her to feel something, anything.

Then again, she'd much rather not have you go through a single bad experience with her, -that's what she promised, yet..- unless you really push it she'd be as gentle as the night sky.

Just be her sweet escape, the darling she can come back home to, her beloved. It's about time you get used to it by now.

[xanaxiii]

"PUT ME IN A MOVIE"

cw: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRT LANGUAGE, slightly smut, suggestive themes, fluff, a little bit of angst, logan is grumpy and old, dom/sub dynamic, pet names, no use of y/n, sexualization.  

words: 19k 

an: treat it as a halloween special. first i was planning to write something with van helsing but ended up with this. i'm not complaining tho.  

𓆩♡𓆪

The pain in his spine was making him unable to live today. His aching knees seemed to burn more than usual. He woke up with a migraine, piercing his mind from every nerve. He would have liked to spend the whole day under blankets, hiding from the oppressive sunlight that wanted to penetrate the thick curtains into the bedroom. But he knew he couldn't. One bloody day off and everything would collapse. 

He came back late. Two days before October 31st, one of the worst days of his job. Driving someone there, picking someone up here. It was exhausting. The pain in his body didn't help, it only made things worse, making Logan especially unpleasant today. 

As if he wasn't always like this. 

He barely dragged himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He bowed his head to look at which button he locked the car with. He didn't have his glasses with him, and even if he did, he wouldn't put them on. It would only make his already strong migraine worse. 

His steps were slow, his breathing heavy. He grabbed the house keys from his back pocket, turning them in the lock, finally finding himself in the only place where he truly felt safe. 

However, because of his bad condition, everything bothered him here too. It was evening, so it was normal for you to turn on the lights, but their glaring, yellow color tormented his eyes. The radiators on made him hoarse, when suddenly his throat became dry. He rubbed his face with his calloused hands and, not bothering to look for you around the house, headed straight to the living room. He had no intention of struggling even more and climbing the stairs, only to collapse on the bed. He could just as well have just slept on the couch, he's sure you would understand that. 

As he walked, he noticed your silhouette bustling around the kitchen. Curiosity got the better of him, so he turned his steps in your direction. He leaned against the door frame, squinting as you carved out the pumpkin. He tilted his head, wondering why you were even doing this? It was late, almost night. You should be asleep. You should at least be in bed, not playing kid. 

“...What are you doing?” His gruff voice pulled you out of your own little world, forcing you to take your headphones out of your ears and look at Logan. A smile spread across your face as you set the knife aside and ran over to him. 

“I missed you, Logan,” you replied, snuggling into his tense arms, wrapping yours around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. When you pulled away, you grabbed his arm, leading him to the kitchen counter. 

“I thought we could decorate the house a bit this year. I started carving faces into pumpkins, I don't even remember when I started... maybe you'd like to help me?" - your tone was sweet, encouraging. You took one of the still untouched pumpkins in your hands, showing it to Logan. The bright, orange color contrasted with the dark green of the leaves and the stem. Logan tilted his head to the side, placing his large hand on the pumpkin, pushing it down. 

"I'm tired. You probably are too. You shouldn't worry about such nonsense, so late at night." - saying this, he put the vegetable on the counter. He buried his hands in your hair again, pulling at the long strands. 

Your lips twisted into a grimace. You stepped closer until your chest brushed his. Lifting your head up to look him straight in the eyes, your gaze became more pleading, slightly offended. 

"You're a terrible grump, Logan. Please, at least this year be a little more willing to play...” - you mumbled, looking at him from under your eyelashes. “...If you insist, I'll lay down but only if you come with me and let me finish carving tomorrow morning. And help me with it.” - you added, your tone becoming more demanding. Logan knew there was no point in arguing with you. He would say it was quite annoying how stubborn you were. But also adorable. 

“Fine, fine. I'll let you play the little, annoying girl. But don't drag me into this. I'm not cut out for things like that.” - with that, he reached up and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the floor. His bones cracked, he felt the painful tension in his knees but he ignored it. With you in his arms, he carried your, compared to him, small body to your shared bedroom. 

At this point, he just needed sleep. Knowing that he would be interrupted by embarrassing nightmares, he needed you by his side, to him quickly lie down so he could at least get a few hours of sleep. He looked at you, the way you were snuggled into his chest made warmth spread through him. 

It was amazing to Logan how it was possible that someone as sweet and young as you could put up with a man like him. Old, neglected and with a hell of a lot of trauma and problems on his back. It was like a miracle to have you here. The fact that you appeared every time he needed you the most. It was like you were a guardian angel over him. 

*** 

In the morning, Logan woke up alone in bed. He rubbed his rough hands over his face, looking around the room. There was no sign of you anywhere, which meant that you had somehow gotten up before him. Logan clicked his tongue, finally getting out of bed after a few sighs. His feet landed on the wooden floor, muscles immediately tensing. He stood up, wondering several times whether to just stay in bed and wait for you to return. But to be on the safe side, he preferred to check if everything was okay. 

He narrowed his eyes at the sight of several finished pumpkins standing on the dining room table, their carved faces staring at him with mockery. He snorted, shaking his head. You were impossible, special. He couldn't remember the last time he celebrated anything in a big way. But suddenly you appeared and renewed every tradition in his long life. He remembered his last Halloween well, spent among the rest of the mutants, when the residence still existed, when everything was still normal. At that memory, he felt a pang deep in his heart, which made him take a heavy breath and walk down the hallway, setting his sights on finding you instead of thinking about the future. 

He found you, sorting candys into bowls, taking a few out of the package, dividing them into categories that Logan didn't want to think about at the moment. Oh, no, his thoughts were now filled only with the sight of you. He had gotten used to the fact that you usually wore clothes that were quite fitted to your figure, not very revealing, but inviting, but this? 

That had to be the sexiest zombie costume he had seen in a long time. 

Your hair was tied in two, loose ponytails, tied with black ribbons, frayed at the ends. Your makeup was sweet, despite the green paint on your face and on other visible places, your cheeks highlighted with a pretty shade of pink, your lips full and painted in a candy color. The black sweater was tight in every place it should be, and the skirt barely covered your ass. The knee socks squeezed your thighs. You looked like a sinful fantasy that Logan had an appetite for. 

 He stepped closer, as quietly as he could to sneak up on you. He aimed and slapped your butt, making you squeak quietly, turning to face him. You bit your lower lip at the sight of his emerging wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, as a rare smile appeared on his lips. A gentle one, but it didn't change the fact that the corners curved. 

"You're up." - you mumbled, running your eyes over his undershirt that hugged every inch of his body, paying special attention to the veins on his arms, more visible than ever. You swallowed dully, trying to focus your attention on his face. 

"Is that your costume? I have to admit, you've got talent. But there's no need to dress in this the day before, is there?” he asked, his fingers tightening around your waist as he tugged lightly at the scratchy material of your sweater. He had to check if you had also chosen matching underwear to go with your outfit. 

“I wanted to see how I look...and get used to it. And don't worry, I've got something for you too.” - a smile spread across your face. You slid one of your hands under his undershirt, making him shiver slightly at the sudden warmth. 

“I told you, you don't have to drag me into this.” 

“Oh, but! Don't you even want to see what I've prepared?” 

Your tone. Again, so sweet and pleading. You knew he couldn't say no to you, especially when you spoke in that certain way. He sighed, allowing you to show him what kind of costume you wanted him to wear. It could be anything, Logan knew your imagination had no limits. But he wanted you to understand that he was...too old for all this. It's not appropriate for him to dress up and scare others. 

Although he wouldn't complain if you did. He'd love to play the big bad wolf and little red riding hood with you. He could actually suggest that for next year. 

You went back to the bedroom. Logan leaned his back against the wall, looking shamelessly at you as you bent down to find what you were looking for in the closet. Your miniskirt lifted up, revealing pretty, pink panties in black dots. Logan licked his lips, fighting the urge to take you from behind. He'd like to see how those sweet ponies would bounce with each subsequent thrust. 

You pulled out a lab coat from the closet, covered in fake blood in several places, matching pants and a shirt. Black, slippery gloves, most likely a toy syringe. Logan came closer when you signaled him with your hand to do so, your eyes twinkling with happiness and love. He couldn't resist, he placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it a little, leaning towards you. 

"I thought since I'm going to be the dead girl, you could be the mad scientist. You know, I think these gloves would be especially good for you," you explained, lifting your head to make eye contact. 

His eyes moved to your full lips, then returned to your eyes. 

 "I only wear this to please you. But definitely not now and not today..." - he whispered, lightly pushing you, you leaned back against the closet door behind you. He knelt down in front of you, lifting one of your legs, throwing it over your shoulder. Your foot in a soft stocking pressed into his back, and you leaned your head back, already recognizing how this would end. 

"...L-Logan...don't destroy..." - he interrupting you, teasing your needy pussy with his thick finger, a wet stain appears on the material of your panties, forming under his touch. 

"Oh, don't worry, doll. Nothing will happen to the costume, I'll take care of it." - after this, he inhaling your arousal scent, mingling with the aroma of your strawberry perfume. You were so responsive that he could get to almost unlimited access. 

He lifted his head, catching and memorizing the expression on your face, how your cheeks were flushed, enough to show through the colors of your makeup. Your legs trembling, eager for his next move. 

"So eager. Did you do this on purpose, huh? Want me to fuck you. I promise you, tomorrow night you'll be so fucked, you'll forget about this whole celebration. You're my sweetest candy." 

His words only fueled the fire inside you. A moan ripped out from you effect of the coldness between your legs appeared as he was lead down your panties, leaving it wrapped around one ankle, parting your pussy before he disappeared between your thighs. His gray beard scratched your thighs and his talented tongue made you scream with pleasure. 

Your thoughts were burning, completely absorbed in what going on now and what Logan would do for you on Halloween night. Your head was swarming with many ideas which escaped through the window with each lick of his tongue. 

[sematarygirls]

how did swan!reader and rafe meet?

🦢 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── swan!reader and rafe's first meeting

   once again, rafe had somehow found himself roped into attending some business dinner party with his father and rose that he had no interest or care for. he had much better things to do on a saturday night than plastering on a charming, fake smile and standing around socializing with people twice his age, but this was a fact that didn't seem to matter to his father, who had told him that he was to be dressed sharply with his hair tamed by six o'clock on the dot.

reluctantly, he had obliged, dressing up in a white button-down and black dress pants before carefully styling his hair, so he would look every bit the respectable, young, future-businessman that his father expected him to be.

the ride to the party was filled with yes dad's and nodding in agreement to being on his best behavior as his father reminded him for the millionth time that he had a reputation to uphold, which meant his children were to be the epitome of perfect to ensure his spotless reputation stayed just that.

rafe had expected the dreadfully awful music and the awkward introductions and small talk with people he couldn't care less about. he expected the lack of booze strong enough to get him drunk enough that he could at least semi-enjoy the boring social affairs. he even expected the lingering glances from middle-aged women who had been dragged to this lifeless event by their equally lifeless husbands. what he hadn't expected, however, was you.

when he first laid his eyes on you, he had found himself wondering how he'd ever missed you in the first place. you were laughing courteously at a joke that a balding man, probably in his fifties or sixties, had appeared very proud of. your smile seemed to light up the entire room, breathing life into the party that had otherwise been soulless and unpleasant.

your poise and grace was evident simply by the way you carried yourself, smiling sincerely at everyone that met your eye while also keeping yourself engaged in the surely dull conversation you were having with the older man.

he found himself oddly drawn to you, captivated by not just your beauty but the way you seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room simply by existing. he knew he needed to speak to you, and more than that, he needed to have you. it took just feasting his eyes upon you for him to begin to crave the feel of your delicate skin under his rough hands and your earnest and warm eyes on his own.

before he could stop himself, his legs were moving in long, purposeful strides toward you, uncaring that interrupting your conversation would be considered rude and unbecoming.

"can i steal away a moment with the lady?" the words fell from his lips smoothly, a confident smile tugging at his lips as he observed your eyes shift to him and widen ever-so-slightly in surprise. his eyes trailed down the expanse of your neck, lingering on your pearls for a moment as he imagined littering your perfect skin with bright red hickies that would have you blushing and whining about what your poor parents would think if they saw.

"we were actually in the middle-" you began to object, but the man across from you swiftly cut you off.

"of course, mr. cameron," he nodded, recognizing rafe as ward's son. no one wanted to mess with the wealthiest and most powerful man in kildare, and that usually extended to his children.

a frown tugged at your lips as you watched the man scurry off to find someone else to bother. of course, you knew rafe cameron. he had quite the reputation around the island as a party boy and total manwhore of epic proportions. you didn't typically listen to the rumors about people that danced from ear to ear of gossipy teenagers and housewives with no better ways to spend their time alike, but you had made an exception for him.

"problem, sweetheart?" he taunted, his gentlemanly attitude dropped and replaced with his usual arrogant and entitled demeanor—the very same one that usually had women falling at his feet.

you simply raised an eyebrow at him, clearly less than amused at his behavior. "it's rude to interrupt people's private conversations," you ignored the pet named he'd condescendingly assigned you.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the doorway as he studied you for a moment. he had noticed it when he first approached—that slight pull downward on your lips the moment you laid eyes on him—and it was ever-present now that you two were engaged in a conversation of your own. "you don't like me, do you?" he pondered aloud. "now, i wonder why that would be," he grinned wolfishly, not deterred by the fact one bit.

"well, you haven't exactly wooed me with your charm thus far," you retorted, crossing your own arms.

"hm," he hummed, his head lifting and falling subtly in a small nod as his eyes darted to the way your crossed arms in defiance pushed your tits together—a fact you didn't seem to realize as you stared him down. The look you were giving him wasn't exactly a glare, but you weren't regarding him with the warmth and adoration he had hoped to see when he swooped in to save you either. this, of course, only made him want you more.

"so, was there something you needed, or do you just enjoy asserting your dominance over people?" you asked, pulling his gaze back up to your face, specifically the way your glossed lips pulled into a tight line. he wondered what you tasted like, what every part of you tasted like.

"little bit of both," he shrugged, grinning widely with a wry amusement that had you fighting back an eyeroll—you already knew your mother would throw a fit if she saw your defensive stance and annoyance written on your face, especially since your conduct was directed at a cameron of all people. "lighten up, princess," he laughed. "i just wanted to talk."

"you talk a lot for someone who rarely says anything of substance," your snippy response tumbled from your lips quicker than you could contain it, making you straighten up as you tried to retain some semblance of poise.

"ouch, you wound me," rafe quips, clutching his chest in faux hurt. "you always throw insults at people you don't even know?"

"no, just you," you shrugged, looking around to make sure your parents weren't around to see how their well-mannered daughter seemed to lose her sense in the presence of kildare's golden boy.

"oh, so i'm special then?" he smiled, pleased by your response, which only seemed to fuel his already-texas-sized ego.

"sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied dryly, rolling your eyes at his smug grin.

he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was getting under your skin, which only made your irritation grow. "i'm rafe cameron," he held out his hand.

you eyed his hand, not moving to shake it. you slowly trailed your gaze to his face, quirking an eyebrow. "i'm aware," you informed him, your tone cool and unimpressed, much less interested.

"well," he prompted, dropping his hand after a beat and shoving it into his pocket. "don't i get a name?"

"you haven't earned it," you countered quickly, a smile tugging at your lips now that you had an upper hand—the advantage of mystery.

"now, that's not fair," he rolled his eyes. he couldn't quite decide whether this little game was irritating him or amusing him, which only seemed to add to the thrill.

"whoever said life was fair, mr. cameron?" his name rolled off your tongue in a way that had him twitching in his pants. being called mr. cameron was only ever a formality—one that at times made him feel superior, and at others, he was indifferent to—but the way you said it seemed to change it's meaning entirely. "now if you'll excuse me," you said, your eye catching a friend from across the room.

she was giving you a wide-eyed look, her gaze darting. between you and the infamous kook king rafe cameron. you internally groaned, knowing you'd be bombarded by questions the moment you stepped within earshot.

as you turned to leave, rafe's hand immediately shot out and grabbed your bicep, stopping you. "i'm not done talking to you," he said, his tone lowering with a vaguely threatening timbre.

"yes, you are," you said firmly, pulling your arm from his grasp. if you were fazed by his slight demeanor shift, you didnt show it. "goodbye, rafe," you bid farewell before continuing your journey to your friend, who immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you close, giggling something into your ear when you reached her.

rafe watched your every move like a hawk throughout the rest of the night, waiting for the opportunity to get you alone somewhere, but, to his dismay, it never came.

at the end of the party, his father ushered him out to the car, talking his ear off about potential clients and business partners, but he had completely tuned him out, his mind instead filled with nothing but you. you may have been playing hard to get now, but he was destined to make you his, and rafe cameron always got what he wanted.

[porcelainbambi]

strawberries, cherries & an angel’s kiss in spring

a small glimpse into farm life with ellie <3

18+

ellie williams x femme coquette reader

disclaimer: the first picture in the moodboard is not meant to directly represent the reader’s skin/body, i just think it fits the mood well <3 ik this will only appeal to some ppl stylistically and that’s ok!! this one is 4 the coquette pillow princesses, hope u enjoy <3 dedicated to the lovely @clearheartgreyflowers n @elskittie who encouraged me to write a lil something in the first place!! mwah

You enjoyed the work that came with living on the farm, you truly did. Loved to wake up early while the morning dew was still clinging to every petal and leaf, loved to tend to the animals and manage the gardens you cared for so dearly. Loved to dance around both inside and outside, loved that it was all a part of your home, part of the life you shared with Ellie.

Since moving onto the farm, you had formed quite the habit of doing all your daily tasks in the early mornings, usually having finished all you needed to do before noon even rolled around. This left you with the opportunity to spend some time in your beloved kitchen, sometimes baking small desserts with what ingredients you had available, other times simply washing and preparing some fruit you had gathered for a snack you could share with Ellie, all before she had even begun her own work for the day.

While you thrived in the morning hours, Ellie, on the other hand, preferred to do her share of the chores around midday, finishing shortly before dinner on the odd days where serious labour needed to be done. Never the morning person, she would’ve kept you in the warm nest of your shared bed, loving on you from the inside out until her own work beckoned around midday, every single day if she could. Even by then, she still hated to be away from you just as much as you loathed being separated from her for too long.

And so, you often accompanied her while she worked. Her little shadow following her around, floating from task to task, sometimes attempting to help (though she almost always stopped you, insisting all you had to do was sit pretty and talk about whatever was on your mind.) She would let you guide the conversation while she worked, occasionally coming over to where you sat perched on the fence or the hood of her truck to peck at your strawberry-stained lips, rough hands gently grazing over the soft peach-fuzz hair on your warm skin, leaving you love drunk and breathless before returning to her job with a poorly hidden smirk.

You absolutely adored this routine. You loved to watch her work with her hands, white wife-beater and black jeans often dirtied with mud or motor oil, gazing at the way her muscles worked under her skin and trying not to lose focus on what you were saying at the moment, lest she catch on to your staring and tease you about it until you were pink faced and huffy.

You loved when that teasing turned into something more, ending in her taking you over the hood of her truck, on top of a hay barrel or against a tree, fucking you dumb with the strap she so often wore under her jeans just for moments like that. She knew watching her work tended to get you riled up, heat pooling in your tummy until you couldn’t take it anymore, whining and pleading for her until she put her tools down and all too eagerly came to your rescue, helping you take care of the ache between your soft thighs.

You loved the routine that’d been created over the years of living on your farm together, and Ellie loved it just as much, maybe even more.

Sometimes, however, all of your own work you had done so early that morning would catch up with you around midday, a wave of fatigue you would relentlessly fight, not wanting to miss out on a single moment with your girlfriend. That is until Ellie would notice your small yawns, the way your eyelids began to droop and she would insist you go lay down for a little nap, promising to come get you as soon as she was finished. You would always whine, insisting you were barely even tired, your own body betraying you when a yawn cut your argument short.

And so, with a few extra kisses and a pat on your bottom, you’d make your way over to one of your favourite places on the land you called home.

Next to one of your large oak trees laid a small clearing, a sun-dappled expanse of plush grass that practically felt like a blanket all on its own. Violets and buttercups littered the ground, an old large picnic blanket sprawled out that seemed to beckon you to lay down. Sometimes you didn’t sleep at all, simply lazing about and listening to the soothing sounds of the wind and the nearby river, the sheep occasionally bleating nearby, letting your thoughts and daydreams carry you away, often finding that those daydreams were awfully close to the life you already were living with Ellie. Sometimes you took the time to read, leafing through old magazines and books you’d read countless times before and somehow never tired of. But most times, your eyelids would heavy and before you knew it you were peacefully resting, dozing in and out of sleep until Ellie came to wake you, having finally finished her tasks for the day. Always gently climbing over your form, careful not to dirty your sundress with her own muddied clothes, admiring you for a few moments before gently rousing you from your slumber.

And that was just how she found you then: warm and drowsy, laying on your tummy with your cheek squished against your arm where you had rested your head. Your linen covered back rising and falling steadily with your breaths, the little sundress you wore ruffling gently with the occasional breeze. As her eyes skimmed down, she could see the way the dress had bunched up slightly with your small movements, the backs of your thighs completely bare up to the slightly visible crease where your thighs met your ass, pink cotton panties peeking out just a bit. She felt herself warm from the inside out at the sight.

Ellie approached quietly, as always. Wiping her hands on her jeans to make sure they were clean, she slowly knelt on the blanket, hovering over your sleeping form. As she leaned down, her senses were immediately overtaken by you, you, you. Your balmy skin that smelt like sun & faintly of the lavender soap she’d helped glide over your body the night before. Your hair splayed out over your shoulders like a veil, which she gently pushed away with a calloused hand to lay soft kisses on the expanse of skin now exposed to the humid air and her touches.

You awoke slowly, humming quietly when you recognized her presence. She always toke care to wake you as gently as possible, soothing you back into consciousness with grazing touches and hushed words. You rolled onto your back underneath her hovering form, blinking away the sleep from your tired eyes until the face you loved more than anything in the universe came into focus. A roughened hand came down to brush some of your hair out of your face as she smiled sweetly at you, finally murmuring out a greeting.

“Hi, sweet girl.”

You giggled at the pet name, muttering a small “Hi” back, cheeks heating already at the small display of affection. That was just the thing with these moments, no matter how frequently they occurred and how often she absolutely spoiled you rotten with her affection and touch, you were seemingly always more sensitive to it in that warm, sleepy, sunkissed state. Everything felt a million times stronger, heavier and simultaneously lighter, time passing leisurely under her gaze. There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to be done, your existence together on that frayed blanket the most important moment in history, as if the universe formed just for this. Just for the two of you. And, more often than you’d like to admit, in these moments you also tended to become a million times needier, the urge to be completely consumed by her and in turn to consume her back entirely overpowering any other senses you possessed.

Ellie knew this, of course. She could read you like a book that she knew by heart, had learned all your micro-expressions and committed their meanings to memory until she could practically read your mind at any given moment from a single glance, a one second scan all it took to know what you needed. Now was no different, as she immediately picked up what was going on: the tiny shifts of your hips under her own, the way you were worrying at your bottom lip with your front teeth, your little fingers aimlessly gripping and releasing the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at her, bambi eyes glassy and wide and so, so trusting.

Ellie also knew you were often too shy to verbalize what you wanted, when you wanted it. A much needed discussion at your small kitchen table had helped clear this up, as you explained to her how you often felt at a loss for words when you needed her most, throat seemingly closing up and an air of timidness taking over. She knew this, and she knew the solution was; To do all the serious talking, saying what needed to be said and letting you confirm or deny with your small noises and nods and the pawing of your hands until you’d relaxed enough to open up verbally again.

Toying with the trim of your dress between thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into your own with the intensity that always seemed to subdue your mind into that fuzzy state you couldn’t quite describe with words, she began to speak in the hushed tone she reserved for moments like this.

“You feelin’ a little needy, baby?”

You nodded, a small noise of agreement coming from the back of your throat.

“Want me to take care of you?”

You nodded quickly, up and down so fast she thought your head might pop off your shoulders if you kept at it.

She let out a small giggle, followed by a string of “alright, alright baby”s. You had been in this position countless times, enough so that she knew exactly what you needed the most, beginning by gently flipping up your dress and laying it neatly on your tummy. Placing soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, seemingly in no rush at all as you started to whine, hips stirring, body doing everything in its power to call her to where you needed her most.

This was stopped, however, by her big hands gripping your hips, gently pushing them down into the blanket again, holding them there as she continued her ministrations. “Easy, sweetheart” she cooed. “Gonna give you what y’need, just be my good girl ‘nd be patient.”

She didn’t make you wait too long, wanting to reward you for the way you almost immediately stilled your movements at her request. Repositioning, she laid down between your thighs, pushing your knees up until there was room for her in the middle. Propped up on her arms resting on either side of your hips, her head was now just mere inches away from your clothed mound. Your breathing had quickened significantly, and while another time she may have teased you for longer, really taking her sweet time just letting her warm breath torturously fan over your heat, she felt like being nice today. With one last look for permission being met with an eager nod of your head, she gently pulled the damp cotton to the side, simply admiring your puffy cunt for a moment before ducking her head down.

The first kiss she laid over your slit immediately had you keening, reaching a hand down to hold onto her own that was laid across your tummy, keeping you pressed to the blanket where she wanted you. It didn’t take long for the small kisses to turn into messy, open mouthed ones, to her flat tongue swiping through your folds, occasionally working her way up and suckling on your swollen clit as you cried out softly.

Your mousy noises were nearly entirely drowned out by her own noises of pleasure as she went to work on you. Ellie was never one to be quiet in times like this, and there was no exception when she was using her mouth on you. Grunting, moaning, slurping, all from her own enjoyment of the pleasure she was giving you mixed with the addicting taste of your juices she so greatly savoured, it was obscene every single time.

Eventually, she could start to feel your hole clenching around nothing as she continued her tongue’s movements. Dipping lower, she slowly circled it with the tip of her tongue, relishing in the feeling of your body fluttering against her prodding. Once she deemed you ready, encouraged by your increasing whines and a muffled “please” from your plush lips, she began gently pushing the muscle inside your warm heat.

Spurred on by your whines and the way your grip on her hand tightened, she flicked her tongue upwards and revelled in the way you clenched around it. Your taste was even stronger like this, now leaking directly into her eagerly awaiting mouth, and she couldn’t get enough, ever. She moved like a woman starved, the vibrations from the groans she let out adding to your own white-hot pleasure, which was mounting by the second.

You could feel it rising, building and building, knot forming in the lowest part of your tummy. The intensity was overwhelming and suddenly, your upper half felt too exposed. You needed to be eye level with Ellie, needed to feel completely encased by her, fully consumed by her. Needed the intimacy of her breath fanning across your face when you eventually reached your peak. You began to pull where you gripped at her forearm, mumbling a quick “up, up, please”, and of course she knew exactly what you meant.

Pulling away from your heat, you got a hazy look at the mess you’d made of her face, lower half glistening with your slick, reddened lips puffed slightly, appearing as though she’d just devoured the ripest peach one could find. She immediately replaced her mouth with her warm hand, simply cupping your pussy as she clambered, repositioning until she was laying next to you on the blanket, using her supporting arm to wrap around the top of your head a bit, caging you in safely. she removed her hand only to finally push your panties down your thighs, returning her touch the second they were out of her way. As she slotted her lips with yours, your own taste quickly melting with the laps of her tongue against your own, she let two of her fingers slip inside you, quickly assuming the motion she knew you loved so much: stroking your velveteen walls in an upward motion, punching in and out with her forearm so she hit that sweet, gummy spot with nearly exact precision every single time.

You were gasping into her lips immediately, still trying to kiss back through it all, small hand shooting up to wrap around the back of Ellie’s neck, keeping her face close to your own as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten further. She kissed the corner of your mouth where it was stretched open, sweet noises falling from your plush lips as the pleasure began to build to that special point again, this time feeling safe in her body’s shelter, allowing the feeling to wash over you completely as it rose. She knew it was happening right away, from the way you clenched around her fingers, gushing out more liquid that dripped down her wrist, to the frantic sounds you were producing and the way you gazed up at her, completely falling apart in a way you only could because you knew she was there to keep you together.

“You gonna cum, angel? Hm?”, she says against your lips, knowing she won’t get a proper verbal answer. A warbled moan and a teary-eyed nod are what she gets in response, and she knows the last thing you need to push you over that edge.

“C’mon baby, s’okay. Cum for me, you can cum. My sweet girl, let it happen. Love you so much-”

The knot unravels with a whip the second those words leave her lips, and she feels you gush around her fingers at the same time as she sees those familiar tears of pleasure spill over your inky eyelashes. You’re trembling and crying out, her movements continuing to help you ride it out as long as it can last. The pleasure is almost unbearable, warmth blossoming in your chest as your thrust your head into the apex of her neck.

You can distantly hear her speaking to you, not quite able to make out the words as you let it all wash over you, floating within your high, but you know she’s talking you through it all. You know there’s gentle praises spilling from her lips. And sure enough, as your senses begin to readjust, that’s exactly what you hear.

“There you go, thaaat’s it baby. My sweet girl, did so good, ‘m so proud of you, such an angel. I’ve got you, shhh-sh-sh.”

It’s only then that your ears register your own cries, gently whimpering into your girlfriend’s neck as the tears continue to spill. The overwhelming feeling from your release catching up with you, and you’re suddenly snapping your thighs shut around Ellie’s arm, the stimulation now too much in this sensitive state.

“Okay, okay baby, i’ve gotcha. Gonna pull ‘em out now, ‘kay?” she soothes, waiting for your approval before gently slipping her fingers out, triggering a rush of your own release to spill out onto the blanket below as you whine.

You feel her wiggle down your body until she’s face level with your now soaked pussy and thighs again, using her thumbs to gently part your folds without further stimulating your swollen clit. With a few tentative fingers, she scoops up what she can of your release from your drooling hole, shushing you when you flinch at the contact before popping them in her mouth, humming at the taste, her own eyelids fluttering.

After a few small kisses to the tops of your still shaking thighs, she gently pulls your cotton panties back up, playing with the little bow that sits at the top of the waistband gently before lowering your sundress once again, covering your sensitive cunt.

Before you know it she’s back up there with you, lifting your spent body until you’re cradled against her as you catch your breath, humming contentedly. She kisses the side of your head, moving down to the fat of your cheek until you’re giggling and completely pliant in her arms. Only then do you begin to speak coherently again, starting the conversation in the only way that feels appropriate in the moment.

“Love you els”, said through giggles.

Ellie thinks her heart might just break through her ribcage and escape her body in an attempt to completely join itself with your own.

“I love you more, silly girl. How you feelin’? All good? Comfortable?”

Your answer is easy, not needing to think at all. “Perfect”, you mumble back. “Jus’ a little sleepy again.”

Ellie laughs, hard enough to shake you a bit where you lay against her chest. You didn’t need to tell her that for her to know, your penchant for wanting to sleep against her skin after she’d fucked you dumb all too familiar. “Alright, I hear ya sleepyhead. What d’you say we head inside, get cleaned up and cuddle a bit before dinner? Hm?”

You nod, humming along before thinking for a moment, brows furrowing in the slightest, immediately prompting Ellie to smooth it out with her thumb. Then blinking up at her gently, eyelashes fluttering, giving her those bambi eyes you know she melts under the gaze of before speaking once more.

“Carry me inside, els?”

And she never, ever could say no to that request.

[stunie]

imagine your classes ran late one evening and you’re tired so you decide to relax at the public bathhouse down the street. You get there and it’s completely empty, and you’re so tired you don’t even notice that you accidentally went into the men’s side. So you’re sitting there completely naked, lathering up, when Togame, the tall hot guy from your college you’ve kinda been crushing on walks in, nothing but a towel around his waist. You both stare at each other in shock. You scream, he explains you’re on the wrong side, and at some point his towel falls off….

oh nonnie the gasp i let out reading this.. (x f!reader). sfw!

he knew for a fact that he wasn’t crazy when he first thought he heard something while setting his things down upon arriving at the bathhouse. a girl? it sounded just like a moan, the type girls tend to make when they’re stretching, but he just shook his head at the idea. it was impossible that a girl would be here.

he doesn’t even realize until he’s only a couple feet behind you— had his eyes closed, hand behind his neck as he cracked it with a groan, ready to finally get in and relax.. and that’s when his eyes finally settle on you.

you— the girl staring back at him wide eyed, soapy hands covering as much of your chest as you possibly can. your lips are pressed in a nervous line, and .. oh fuck.

he’s swiftly doing a double take, reading over the sign at least three times in a second. men’s … it says men’s. that says men’s, doesn’t it? his eyes are quickly darting back between you and the sign, and that’s when he hears the most blood curdling scream he’s ever heard in his entire life.

soap is suddenly being flung his direction, and somewhere between when he starts spewing nonsense, babbling about how “w-wait.. wait a second! ouch….this is the men’s..!” and when his arms are leaving his towel to swat away the soap being lobbed at him is when it finally falls from his waist, towel dropping onto the floor as you gasp.

your eyes are suddenly much wider, mouth falling wide open at the sight, and he’s suddenly talking faster than anyone’s ever heard him speak before.

[sinofwriting]

I've mentioned this before, but I've been thinking recently about drivers who knew of their wives before claiming/it not being spontaneous (so Charles and Ollie) and them preparing things for their wives/counting down to claiming. Maybe there's a few days between when they're informed/complete the paperwork and they get the all clear (even something so secretive/elite has bureaucratic procedurals lol). He gets some extra pillows for his hotel room, reserves two seats on the jet home, lays awake staring at the side of the bed his wife will soon occupy, and paces his driver's room between sessions wanting more than anything for her to be there to talk things over about the car, make everything better with just her presence, and ensure she's doing OK this weekend. Meanwhile your going about your life. No feeling of urgency, making appointments/reservations you'll never show up to (and will have to pay no show fines, rude), no idea that your "freedom"/life as you know it is on a timer with little remaining, feeling content in contrast to the man nearly salivating with desire to pluck you up and keep you. -🦢

Ollie is kind of like this, but his is much more spontaneous. Like he's been buying things but there all at home, waiting there for when he claims her.

Charles on the other hand... (under the cut cause I went on a ramble)

As soon as he realized she was the one, the one he wanted as his forever, he started buying things, saving an extra seat, asking for nicer more roomy hotel rooms. He upgrades his motorhome. The team just thinks that since he's getting just a bit older he wants more space.

Charles is watching her during the weekends, longing to just finally have her, to talk to her. It's all he thinks about, just getting to talk to her. To be near her, to feel her eyes on him.

He stares at the pillow on the other side, envisioning her laying there before he moves her onto his chest, pressing her close as possible as he breathes her in only for the pillow to come back into the focus.

He spends more time in his drivers room because he can see her in there, can see the fantasy of him coming out of the car, a little sweaty, opening the door and she greets him with open arms, lets him hug and cuddle her. Her fingers running through his hair before the fall to his neck and just gently rub, not wanting to actually do anything incase it hurts him. It's all he sees, it's boiling inside of him until finally it goes over the lip of the pot and Friday, May 17th, 2024 Charles tells the FIA official he's claiming his wife on Sunday. And really they were lucky that he gave them any notice at all.

[ljubimaya]

Playboy magazine featuring Bajirena ── .✦

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[xyaehir]

“hold still!” —

SYP — self care night w ur sweet bf!

GEN. — fluff, crack

WARN. — gn!reader, male characters

REQ. — “Hi! Can I mayb request a skincare or spa day for any blue lock characters? If you don’t except this req, that’s totally fine! Thanks anyway!!!”

NOTES. — omg xyae!!! you finally posted!! no need for the applause guys 🙄🙄 also, i know some characters like reo, childe, kaeya etc would already know about skincare but we’re gna ignore that kay 😛

“stop moving!”

“i can’t help it, you’re smothering my face with this — this cleanser stuff!”

you sigh in mock annoyance, reaching your clean fingers to adjust the frog headband sitting on his hairline.

“do you do this everyday?” he tilts his head, squinting his eyes when you continue rubbing the product on his cheeks.

you hum in agreement, “its a way of taking care of your skin. you know, getting it to clear up.”

“my skin’s just fine. i just wash it with soap and not this — ‘hydrating cleanser’ stuff,” he rolls his eyes, using his fingers to air quote.

“how the hell do you have such nice skin when you wash it with hand soap?” you deadpan.

“genetics? i don’t really know,” he shrugs, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into your gentle touch.

you hum. “ok, go wash this off,” you trail off, turning your back and grabbing the masks and serums. “so we can start with these!” you beam.

his eyebrow twitches.

“what’s that for?” he cocks a brow, pointing at the small package on your lap. “you’ll see in a sec,” you smile, tearing it open.

walking over, you adjust his cute sanrio headband again before gently placing the face mask on his face. he shivers but before he could open his mouth to complain or make some sassy quip, you slap a lip mask on his face.

that was 30 minutes ago.

now you’re stuck on the floor with a sleepy man twice your size, quite literally squeezing the life out of you.

“babe, we were supposed to take the masks off like 10 minutes ago,” you sighed, patting his head. you hear him grumble, mumbling incoherently.

“i’ll do it then, stay still,” you smiled softly, reaching for your mask and then his masks. “tilt your head back a bit.” he complies and you reach for the serum bottles.

applying a small drop of serum on his forehead and cheeks, you take notice of how his eyebrows furrow slightly at the cold liquid.

“it’s a lil cold,” you chuckle, kissing his forehead before spreading the serum all over his face.

he hums sleepily, voice breaking softly as his eyes flutter close.

it’s quiet for a while, before..

SLAP!

“oww!” he yelps, eyes flying open as he sits up hastily. “why are you slapping me?” he manages to get out in between slaps. you hum, “it helps your skin to absorb the product better.”

he side eyes you.

you hear him groan. ignoring it, you continue with your skincare routine. “ugh!” he groans, way louder and more exaggerated. you feel your eyebrow twitch.

by the time you chose to stop ignoring his whining, he’d already kicked the blankets off the bed.

“what do you want? i already finished your skincare so just go to bed,” you sigh, reaching for your eye cream.

“yea but when are you gonna finish?” he asks softly. ‘i can’t sleep without you.’

you smile at him through the vanity mirror.

“baby, just one more thing alright?” the sleeping mask you reach for clatters on the table softly. “five more minutes. can you wait for me, hon?”

he hums tiredly, standing up and making his way behind you.

he kneels down, wrapping his arms gently but securely around your waist and rests his head on your back. “hurry up, w’na hold you so bad.”

your heart flutters and your movements stutter. you gulp, patting the product into your pink cheeks.

you both slept horribly that night since he fell asleep holding you and you couldn’t drag his heavy ass to bed.

— (bllk) NAGI, sae, REO, rin (genshin) KAEYA, CHILDE, xiao, venti, ITTO (star rail) sampo, JING YUAN (haikyuu) SUNA, tsuki, OIKAWA, KUROO (KNY) TANJIRO, giyu, sanemi (assclass) KARMA, ISOGAI () YOUR FAVES

@xyaehir 2024. This is my content, inspired or not. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. <3

[togenabi]

togenabi's masterlist—♡

most, if not all of my works are sfw romantic fluff. happy reading! —xoxo, belle ♡

JUJUTSU KAISEN

✨toge inumaki✨

by the window under the moonlight (pt.1)— fluff/royalty au; 1.9k words

ㅤㅤ♡—when sent to look for your brother, you find a handsome stranger instead.

with flowers under the stars (pt.2) — fluff/royalty au; 4.1k words

ㅤㅤ♡—Toge does his best to impress you, even when others might not want him to.

my home is where your heart is — fluff/domestic au; 1k words

ㅤㅤ♡—your things keep winding up in Toge's place, and his things in yours. what are you going to do about it?

✨megumi fushiguro✨

throwing pebbles because I love you — fluff/royalty au; 2.3k words

ㅤㅤ♡—whenever the night is clear, and the wind blows softly, Megumi throws rocks at your window.

all my ghosts — fluff/there are ghosts in this fic; 1.5k words

ㅤㅤ♡—haunted by ghosts all your life, you find peace and quiet in Megumi’s arms

✨yuuji itadori✨

rose petals falling — mild angst/beauty & the beast au; coming soon

✨yuuta okkotsu✨

waking up slow — fluff/established relationship; 1k words

ㅤㅤ♡—waking up with Yuuta is one of your favorite things to do.

✨satoru gojo✨

the language of flowers — fluff/royalty au/arranged marriage; 4.7k words

ㅤㅤ♡—all your life, you have been training for the role of empress... but nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.

ONE PIECE (LA)

✨vinsmoke sanji✨

apothecary diaries — fluff/apothecary reader; 3.7k words

ㅤㅤ♡—you need peppermint for a salve you're making, but Sanji bought all of it, and that's seriously not fair.

things I won't tell you — fluff/royalty au; 7.3k words

ㅤㅤ♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

swan lake — fluff/slowish burn/swan lake au; 8.8k words

ㅤㅤ♡—cursed by a wicked sorcerer, you found the keys to your freedom in the eyes of a chef who tries to cook you

✨roronoa zoro✨

breaking news — fluff/journalist reader; 5.4k words

ㅤㅤ♡—you always had a feeling the straw hats could change your life, but meeting Zoro shifted the entire world on its axis.

pick me up — mild angst/fluff/straw hat reader; 3.2k words

ㅤㅤ♡—Zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

the promised knight — slow burn/fluff/royalty au; 8.7k words

ㅤㅤ♡—after a lifetime apart, Zoro finds his way back to you.

✨dracule mihawk✨

the taste of ale — angst/royalty au; 1.2k words

ㅤㅤ♡—'the promised knight' in MIhawk's perspective. told through my notes.

GENSHIN IMPACT

✨coming soon...✨

requests — CLOSED! (see rules here.)

taglist — see post here.

© togenabi 2023 ♡ do not repost my work

[astralnymphh]

lowkey, naughtily, out of the blue thinking abt breeding kink farm!ellie.. I feel like it just goes hand in hand... wrong or right? (it's happening here)

[cevherien]

Our blood stains the future and my tortured senses

Yandere!Ellie Williams, | chp, i.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ After your mental decline and inevitable psychological collapse, Ellie gives you a taste of your new life, and whats more to come.

warnings. Smut, Porn With Plot, Yandere, Angst, Fluff, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy. Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Finger Sucking, Lesbian Sex, ww, Sapphic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality Stockholm Syndrome,

a/n: finally out omg,,, chapter zero (of sorts) is here

Ellie knew she didn't have any other choice one way or the other, when the time came, she'd have to do it. Take you away, keep you somewhere safe from all that could harm you.

The musky, airless basement never felt this claustrophobic since your arrival; getting you to the edge with never ending panic attacks where you'd hold yourself back not to hyperventilate much and use up whatever breathable air was left in this hell hole. Lack of oxygen in your lungs making you feel dizzy and weaker than you already felt.

You were sick and hungry, enraged and betrayed. Cheeks stained with your dried tears, nose runny and mouth dry. It was a cold night. Fear and hunger getting the best of you.

How long has it been since Ellie, the girl you thought was the love of your life, the girl who couldn't dare hurt a single hair on your body had kidnapped you?

Days? Weeks? Years even? You've lost your sense of time here in this basement. The only thing you know for sure is that you lost the strength in you. At first you'd fight back, scream, refuse to eat or drink. Not speaking to her whatsoever, denying her of everything. Not even sparing her a glance.

Ellie was calm and collected throughout this entire process. Even to your surprise, since you know how violent and outraged she got when frustrated.

And oddly she wouldn't do anything to you against your will, at first atleast. Seemingly waiting for your outbursts and meltdowns to come to an end, then she'd strike.

Resolve fully broken, half conscious laying down on the cold concrete of the pit you dare call a basement, with the occasional visit of Ellie to check up on you to see if you're okay. Well shit you're not. Not since the day of your arrival.

You don't even remember her previous visits down, how she'd inject you of something after you completely reject any kind of supplement or food from her, or how she'd try to talk you out of your 'stubbornness' and how you needed to 'accept things as they are now'.

Nightmares and hallucinations, your mind must've been playing tricks on you with the isolation and your situation doing numbers on your mental. Seeing visions from the corner of your eye and waking up screaming in the middle of.. you don't even know. Going through psychosis while your brain blocks out the memories of your stay here from how harsh they had an affect on you, well naturally.

You don't remember anything she has told you throughout her visits or even when you had first opened your eyes to this place. It's all in a haze, memories foggy and grey. Dozing off whenever she tries to speak to you, closing off your senses as a defense mechanism.

Which, also near blocked your good memories with her, your past normalcy and happiness.

You felt dirty, head to toe. Not only by your physical state but your mental and psychological state too. How could she dehumanize you like this?

This couldn't be love, how could it ever be. But you were starting to believe it was.

-

Ellie knew she didn't have any other choice and one way or the other she'd have to do it. Take you away, keep you somewhere safe from all that could harm you.

It broke her heart too, seeing you in pain like that. But she had to, for your own good. It's all because she loves you and wants to protect you, wants you on her side forever. She just loved too much, cut her some slack. As if.

She gave you the alone time that you needed to accept your new circumstances, gave you her patience and her time too. Knew you'd crumble at one point. Come crawling back to her like you always do.

Ellie unlocks the trapdoor leading downstairs, to the basement, to your prison, coming in to do her daily check in. You were at your usual spot curled up, fingers cold and your skin an unhealthy pale yellow.

Walking towards you with the daily syringe of supplements, she kneels before your corpse-like spent body. You feel her presence and the movement, making you jump up -with much or less what energy you got left- but instead of pushing her away or kicking your feet, tears dwell your lash line. Tired. Worn out.

What would standing against this do you any good? You had no resistance left.

And guess, it was about time you get out of that shell now. Took you long enough, 5 weeks to be exact, but she'd happily wait five more if it means to be with you forever afterwards.

Her hand reaches out to cup your left cheek, you don't pull away. Shivering under her still perfectly intimate touch, even after everything she's done, still as warm as the day you fell in love with her for the first time.

”Oh angel..” you sniffle as her thumb soothingly caresses your chin. Softly nuzzling against her palm, you let loose a sob. A single tear roll down your cheeks, then one more, and more.

”Ellie,“ you sniffle between each word, ”Ellie I'm so exhau– sob `m so exhausted, please,“

Weary eyes settle on her relieved and content ones, almost like a puppy finally getting it's much anticipated treat. Restless nights has finally paid off.

”Come here,“ she pulls you into her arms, squeezing you tight almost as if you could slip away from her grasp, ”finally decided to be good now, princess?“

You nod your head like a makeshift bubblehead, ”Please.. please,“ almost like you were at the brink of another mental collapse- as if there was anything left to break down, all was in ruins anyway.

Her nose buried into your neck, feeling you all so close. Even though you smell like rust, dried blood and sweat, even your foul odor relaxing her muscles. Your filth wasn't something she was repulsed by, seen and felt way worse anyway. You were her divinity, every aspect of you was flawless. Even your perfect imperfections.

She pulls away after remaining like this for some time, then pushes your greasy unkept hair behind your ear and softly whispers, ”I'm so glad baby, so so glad honey.“

Feeling lightheaded by her breath hot on your face, soon you find yourself pressed against her wet mouth, lips warm and soft against your chapped dirty ones. You let her guide your lips, losing yourself in her touch, not even realizing how drowsy you've been getting. Slowly feeling yourself slip away. Passing out on her arms

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

-

The distant but close sound of still water and the warm embrace of the bathtub pick at you to open your eyes, faintly. Lids still half closed you try to make out whats going on, why it is so calm and why do you feel so euphoric.. Did you die, was this heaven?

Slightly making out the delightful shine of light wherever you were, it wasn't dim like that fucked up jail of room. Nor did it smell bad of rot and old spices. It smelled like a spring breeze when the sun shined brightest in a vogue haze.

The tender bosom of it's flow making you hazier, all the worries gone without question. Where were you anyways? You didn't give much thought to it though. Instead with heavy arms you moved your fingers through the water, a smile tugging at your face. You felt like a little baby, your head felt fuzzy -almost inebriated- until you finally noticed Ellie.

You were so out of it that you didn't even realize she was there all along. Her hands were busy with some materials -yet, you didn't give much thought to that either. Maybe unable to do so would be a better way to put it.- Soon she turned back to you, hands full with hygiene products and brushes. A razor and some cotton too. Softest towels you could ever find in a place like this. Pretty.

Your head falls to the side, pouting lips opening involuntarily. You look at her with your weary but rather relaxed eyes. Her eyes meet yours in a spark, kneels before the tub and puts her palm to your cheeks.

Neither of you spoke, but for different reasons. You felt defeated, weak, feeble... She was excited, stoked to finally have you give in.

Soon, she puts some of the lotion to the bath water with the droplet, then puts the shampoo bar in her hand and gathers up enough to massage it to your scalp. Her hands were gentle. She was going easy on you, slowly washing your hair so then she can continue to care for your other needs.

That must be then where you fell asleep again, she couldn't blame you. You needed rest. A lot of it.

-

When you wake up, you felt the gentle touch of the back of her index finger caressing the apple of your cheek. You flutter your lashes and mildly bat them to open your eyes to her. Seeing the contagious smile on her lips makes you question everything you went through. Was she still the Ellie you knew and loved, your Ellie that you adored oh so much? You felt crazy for thinking that.

"Morning angel, slept well?"

You get yourself higher with your elbows, looking at her curiously. She was acting as if none of that even happened. Maybe making you feel strange for still tugging on the past. Your face sours a little, getting uneasy at your own thoughts.

Ofcourse Ellie notices "Shhh," she mutters almost to pacify you, "You're okay now, with me." her calloused hands find the small of your back and pulls you close, laying you down on top of her.

"Ellie-"

You were really too sweet for this world, a naive little girl, a little bunny in a dirty and dangerous world that would prey on you. Hurt you and take you away from her. She nodded to herself about taking you, convinced she did the right thing.

"Angel?" she leaves a small kiss to the crown of your head while her thumb drew circles to your skin.

You could hear her heartbeat from laying directly on top of Ellie, head to her chest. You look up, she drops a peck to the tip of your nose. You felt dizzy and complaint. Must be the drugs.

Everything was happening way too fast.

"I made you breakfast."

"T-thanks.." Breakfast meant another dose of meds, her service meant payback.

Ellie's hands trail lower, holding onto your ass. She had dressed you in Satin, they were oversized. She tugged at your shorts to pull them higher, revealing your buttcheeks. You felt the cameltoe of its material on your folds with her yank, no underwear. Ofcourse.

A small gasp escapes your lips when her hands slide inside the confines of the material to grope your butt, each hand kneading your ass inside your shorts.

"Ellie,–" feeling hot all over, you groan. Pretty sure you weren't supposed to be getting aroused by your kidnapper. But you were a simple girl.

Her hands continue their exploration, middle and ring finger finding your slit and teasing your hole, making you involuntarily rise your ass to meet her hand and open your legs wider. You try to hold in the breathy moans trying to escape you, yet fail.

You yelp when she turns you on your back and sets you down to the mattress, caging you over with her arms at either side of you. Wetness had started to pool on the material of the shorts already, giving a darker stain on its faucet.

She leans in to kiss you and you reciprocate, tongue and spit covering your lips, her hands undoing the buttons of your top to leave you bare. Once the fabric is off you feel the cold air hit you, making your nipples hard and sensitive. You felt so needy and aroused, one part of you wanted to believe it wasn't because of her drugging you but because you genuinely wanted this. A girl can dream.

Her kiss deepened while she pawed at the elastic waistband of your shorts to lower them and reveal your pussy that she missed oh so much. You help her take it off, once removed she forces your legs apart and dips her head down to your tits, suckling and nibbling at your nipples, leaving kisses along your areola and biting down hickeys to the fat of your breasts.

She was purposefully avoiding your aching cunt, puffy lips ready to be played with. But she wanted you to know how much you needed her. Your want for her tenfolding with her tease and shunning.

"Ellie please,-" that's been the only words you've been uttering, funny enough.

"Please what, angel? Use your words with me." She stops her attack on your tits "Let me hear you say it."

You gulp down your dignity, if any was left to begin with. "Need you to take care of me.. down there, please–"

"Down where?" her hands settle down on your thighs still keeping them apart. She never breaks eye contact.

Taking a deep breath, "My p-pussy, please- Need you to play with my pussy s-so bad."

"Good girl."

With that she spits at your pussy, not that you needed it, you were as wet as it gets. Pussy so eager it would cream on her abductors hands.

She uses her knees to keep you apart while one hand lands on your mound and the other holds the side of your waist. Fingers graze your wetness and tease your clit lightly, not giving you enough friction whatsoever.

You whine and she decides to not make you wait any longer, thumb firmly caressing circles to your clit and two fingers aligned at your fluttering hole.

"Missed your sweet pussy, baby." without warning she shoves to digits into your pussy, two knuckles deep, then to the hilt, works you open with her fingers. Your slick making it all the easier.

"Missed it so much," leans in and gives you a sloppy open mouthed kiss, tongue urging itself in. You accept her intrusion, embrace it and take it on.

Fingers find the mushy spongy spot deep and played with it, making you cry out and tremble under her. Turning you into a moaning mess in no time. She was playing you like a puppet. And you happily obliged.

"So good, Ellie so good please don't stop–" you beg, eyes watering from how much you feel, you've been locked down for too long that you missed touch. Missed pleasure.

Her hands take up the pace, moving in and out of you faster, you push down on your heels and crumble the sheets under your clenching nails, digging down and mouth agape, you'd almost start drooling.

She pushes you over the edge with one more stroke to your clit and you cum instantly, either because you haven't had a orgasm in months or a good one ever because this one feels euphoric. Overwhelming.

She doesn't stop though, riding through your orgasm with an even faster pace, making your already oversensitive pussy throb with overstimulation. Making you moan, hard.

She pulls her fingers out but not before earning a breathy whine from you and gathers your slick juices on her two fingers, raising them up to her lips and giving it a kitten lick but stopping herself from sucking it, instead she looks down on you and decides you should have the honors.

"Baby, come here" she leans into you, squishing your cheeks together and forces your lips into a deeper pout, expecting you to open your mouth.

"Open up, say aah." And you do so, obviously. Cause you are a good little girl for her, aren't you now?

She slides in her two fingers that were inside of you, slick with your juices which you greedily suck on, tasting yourself on her fingers.

Once you're done, she pulls her hand away, your lips and her fingers linking with a trail of saliva.

"Good job baby," Then she laps at your lips and mouth, feeling all of your slick from all over your body at once. When she pulls away you are a boneless mess.

Lovestruck, addicted.

Guess this is your life now, not so bad is it?

[xanaxiii]

"WE WERE BORN TO DIE"

cw: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE! slightly smut, no use of y/n, pet names, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of death, bad health etc.  

words: 1.6k

an: i fucking love old man logan. and im so fucking horny after rewatching this movie so. enjoy.  ♡

Taking care of Logan was a difficult and tiring task. Despite the relationship you two had, he still felt that he couldn't let his guard down and allow himself to get any help. He considered it pointless...after all, his time would come to die too. Looking at how he used his last moments in this world, death was on his tail. It didn't move away even a step. 

Unfortunately for Logan, you were stubborn and wouldn't let yourself watch your partner die day by day. Raised in a way that the act of helping those in need was the most important thing you could do, especially helping someone close to you, you helped him, ignoring Logan's protests. You helped him with the smallest things, trifles. Getting out of bed, getting dressed. Sometimes even washing.

When it came to the latter, Logan would have to be in a real state of intoxication at that point, because he would rather be renewing the X-men than letting anyone help him with such intimate matters. 

 It wasn't that he was ashamed. He just knew he couldn't afford something like that. He was dying, yes, but he had the strength to wash his dick, damn it. 

And, despite his age, Logan still had a hell of a high libido. Maybe his movements weren't as fast and agile as they used to be, but now all he needed was a gentle touch. And your hands were gentle. They were downright angelic as they brushed over his rough, barely healed skin covered in scars and wounds. 

That's why every time you helped him wash, it ended with sex. But Logan didn't always feel like it or have the time, so he avoided it like the plague. Ignoring the pain and the pure need for someone by his side. He could imagine how pathetic it would be to die in the middle of a bath, which made him think about the act with less and less pleasure every day. 

Bright sunlight came through the window, blocked by thick curtains to illuminate the bedroom with its warm, bright rays. Logan turned over, mumbling something incomprehensible into the pillow. He lay exposed, his chest painfully rising and falling as he breathed, snoring softly and sighing. Strands of his gray hair brushed his forehead, his muscles tense even in his sleep. Which was no wonder, since he had been plagued by nightmares since he was a child. He sighed heavily, opening his blurry eyes, looking around the bedroom. He swallowed, feeling the dryness in his burning throat, and slowly sat up in bed. His feet hit the cold floor, his rough hands rubbed his tired face. His gray beard itched, and the heaviness in his heart made him want to leave it all behind long ago if he could. 

But he couldn't do it. He wouldn't leave you. He wouldn't forgive himself for that. 

The corners of his mouth moved as he heard the door creak open and your slow footsteps approaching him. He raised his head, meeting your gaze full of love and lust. It was amazing to him that despite his age, you still considered him the most attractive man on the planet. 

“You woke up.” - your sweet voice, he heard it so often that he memorized what you sounded like. He replays it in his dreams, in his fantasies. With quick steps, you found yourself on the bed next to him, sliding onto his lap. You heard his quiet hiss of pain, for which you immediately apologized. 

Your scent surrounded him. The new perfume he bought you turned out to be a success. The aroma of strawberries and vanilla took over his senses, so without holding back, he lowered his head and smelled you. You giggled, lifting your head to place a kiss on his temple.

Logan moved his large hands to your waist, kneading the soft skin, tugging at the silk material of your nightie.

You were so beautiful. The way you looked, the way you presented yourself. You were like an angel sent from heaven, to him, even though he didn't deserve it. Logan had become completely addicted to you. You worked on each other like the most wonderful drug, completely controlling each other.

"I woke up. I see you've become an early bird." - he whispered, his voice rough and deep, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around his neck, brushing your fingers along his muscular back, digging your nails into it, scratching and teasing him. He removed his hands from your waist, grazing your wrists, pushing you away. His gaze was narrowed, but not angry.

"What? Don't you like it anymore, James?"

"Don't call me that…" - he mumbled, lowering his head, touching your heated skin with his cold lips. You were so smooth, so perfect. Logan decided that with each next approach, he would treat you like you were made of porcelain. He was afraid that if he squeezed you too hard, you would fall apart in his hands.

"…Why? That's your name, right?"

He shook his head, parting his lips to clamp his teeth on your neck. You sighed, leaning back a little to give him more space.

"No. I'm not who I was anymore, doll." - saying that, he began to place pleasantly painful kisses on your face. - with that, he began to press pleasantly painful kisses against your skin, forcing your wrists to grip his shoulders. He didn't let go of your hands, even though the urge to roam your body was incredibly tempting. But he wasn't in the mood for teasing this morning. No, he was in the mood for morning, bittersweet sex. You could feel his beard, tickling you as he moved his lips along your throat, biting, licking and soaking like an animal preparing to eat its prey.

"Mhm…" - you whispered, opening your plush, soft, pink lips, catching heavy breaths. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became deadly steamy, especially when Logan's lips found yours. He grabbed your lower lip, sucking, making it turn purple. His way of showing his love for you, despite how much he wished it would be different, was rather painful. But it didn't bother you. Why should it? You didn't mind any of the things your old man did.

Despite all his flaws, spite and whining, he was a really sweet man. You knew he cared about you. You knew because he did everything he could to show you as often as possible. Gifts, acts of kindness, how he would stay overtime to earn more for the two of you. It hurt your heart that he was sacrificing himself like that. You swore to yourself to protect him and take care of him so that he would never feel tired again.

But Logan was so damn stubborn. No matter what you told him, he would question it. It's not that he didn't believe you. He just thought that since he was definitely older than you, he knew better. Which, unfortunately, was often true.

When you broke the kiss, you looked at Logan with concern in your eyes. His eyes were closed, eyebrows narrowed. The wrinkles on his face were more visible than usual, his mouth slightly open as he drew air into his lungs. He was so beautiful. You could stare at him for hours.

You smiled softly, slowly grasping the hem of your thin nightgown with your fingers. You made eye contact with him until he moved to your naked body underneath. You couldn't count how many times this man had seen you in this vulnerable state, but every time he reacted as if it was the first time.

Your creamy skin, soft curves, it was everything he had ever wanted. You were like a canvas standing in the corner of the room, waiting for him to vent his emotions on you. He let go of your wrists, wrapping his arms around your waist to throw you under him.

He groaned, feeling a sudden pain in his knees. In moments like these, he simply forgot how sick and old he was. He hated it, hated how hard it was for him to do basic things, let alone catch up with you in all those intimate matters. But you obviously didn't mind.

Once he had you under him, he gently cupped your breasts, beginning to knead your flesh. Your erect, aroused nipples brushed against his open palm. He swallowed hard, looking up to meet your gaze. You slid your hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. He tilted his face down, feeling a shiver of excitement run through him, giving him the energy to continue.

Kneading your tits, his lips began to cover your body with sharp hickeys. After a moment, your neck, sternum, and stomach were covered in burgundy stains. You tightened your grip on the sheet beneath you with your other hand, wriggling and arching your back in a delicious way. Logan, which was rare, smiled, letting your hand tug on his hair as you tried to stop yourself from being dramatic and overreacting when he had barely done anything yet. He let go of your breasts, grabbing his leather belt on his pants. He wrapped his thick fingers around the large buckle, unfastening it, throwing it somewhere to the side. He couldn't get enough of the sight before him. You looked so good when you were all naked and marked by him. A reminder that you were only his. A reminder that he had something and someone to come back to.

He reached into the loops of his belt, twisting them until he finally stepped out of his black, suit pants, leaving them around his ankles. He was damn pleased that you were completely naked, left at his mercy. Waiting for every next move from him. When you bit your lower lip temptingly, wrapping a strand of his gray hair around your index finger, tugging on it, Logan realized that you were getting impatient.

"If you really love me, you'll wait, baby." - He mumbled, leaning down to meet your lips again, his hands sliding down his boxers. You sighed as you felt his cock against your thigh, bringing your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, knowing you would need physical support soon.

“Can you do it? Of course you can. You’re so beautiful. All mine.”- His words were drawn-out praise as he positioned himself over you. He looked into your eyes again, searching for any sign of worry or embarrassment, but the only thing that he see was devotion and desire.

His smile widened, causing his wrinkles in the areas of his mouth and eyes to deepen. So restless, so impatient. He had no reason to be surprised. He spent his days either at work or sleeping off because of nights full of nightmares. He pushed you away from him at every possible opportunity, without power for movement. But today was different. He woke up horny. And that was all he needed to be able to please his princess.

Because for you he would do anything, right?

"I need… I need you, Logan, please." - you whimpered, your sweet voice breaking as you narrowed your eyes, raising your altitude higher by listening to him. He let out a quiet laugh, deep and growling, straight from his irritated throat.

Ah. who was he to refuse you?