#Pool Safety Tips
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poolrenovationnj · 3 months ago
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Keep your pool safe by ensuring it’s surrounded by a fence with a locked gate. Always supervise kids and teach them to swim. Install pool alarms and keep rescue equipment nearby. Regularly check the water quality to avoid infections. Continue reading to discover more about what are the pool safety tips to keep your pool safe all year round.
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ahamad16 · 1 year ago
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Essential Pool Safety Tips for a Secure Swim
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A dip in the pool is a delightful way to beat the heat and enjoy quality time with family and friends. However, ensuring a safe swimming environment is paramount to prevent accidents and promote worry-free enjoyment. In this article, we'll explore essential pool safety tips that every pool owner and swimmer should be aware of. As we dive into the realm of safety, we'll also touch upon a related topic: "How Much Does it Cost to Replaster a Gunite Pool?"
Adult Supervision is Non-Negotiable
Never underestimate the importance of adult supervision around the pool, especially when children are present. Designate a responsible adult to watch over swimmers at all times, even if lifeguards are present. Distractions like smartphones and socializing can wait when it comes to pool safety.
Teach Swimming Skills and Water Safety
Enroll children in swimming lessons at an early age to equip them with essential water survival skills. However, even proficient swimmers should be educated about pool rules, the importance of not running near the pool, and how to react in case of emergencies.
Install Secure Pool Barriers
Install proper pool barriers such as fences, gates, and safety covers to prevent unauthorized access to the pool area. Fences should be at least four feet tall and have self-closing and self-latching gates. This helps keep young children and pets away from the water.
Embrace the Buddy System
Encourage a buddy system whenever anyone is in or near the pool. Having a swimming partner increases safety by providing mutual support and ensuring that help is readily available in case of an emergency.
Learn CPR and First Aid
Knowing how to perform CPR and administer basic first aid can be a lifesaver. Enroll in CPR and first aid courses to be prepared in case of accidents or incidents around the pool. Quick and effective response can make a significant difference.
Keep Rescue Equipment Handy
Ensure that life-saving equipment, such as lifebuoys and reaching poles, are within easy reach near the pool. Being prepared with the right tools can make a difference in a critical situation.
Implement Strict No-Running Rules
Running and horseplay near the pool can lead to slips, falls, and serious injuries. Enforce a strict no-running policy to prevent accidents and create a safer environment.
Clear the Pool Area of Hazards
Keep the pool area free from potential hazards such as toys, pool equipment, and slippery surfaces. Clutter-free surroundings minimize the risk of trips and falls.
Regularly Check Pool Drains and Suction Fittings
Pool drains and suction fittings can pose entrapment hazards. Ensure that all drain covers are secure and compliant with safety standards to prevent accidents.
Be Prepared for Emergencies
Keep a first aid kit and emergency contact numbers nearby. Educate family members and regular pool users about what to do in case of an emergency.
How Much Does it Cost to Replaster a Gunite Pool?
While prioritizing pool safety, it's also essential to consider maintenance costs. Replastering a gunite pool is a significant investment that ensures not only the pool's appearance but also its structural integrity. The average cost for replastering falls between $4,500 and $6,500, depending on factors like pool size and location.
Conclusion
A secure swim is a happy swim. By following these essential pool safety tips, you're not only creating a safe environment for your loved ones but also promoting peace of mind during pool activities. Remember, prevention and preparedness are key to ensuring that your pool remains a source of enjoyment for all. And as you prioritize safety, don't forget to consider long-term maintenance costs like gunite pool replastering to ensure your pool's longevity and aesthetic appeal.
Read more: The Beauty of Infinity Pools
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poolbarrierinspection · 1 year ago
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The importance of pool safety for parents cannot be overstated. Pools, while providing opportunities for enjoyment and relaxation, also come with inherent risks. For parents, ensuring pool safety means taking proactive measures to safeguard their children. In this infographic we have discussed the top 5 pool safety tips.
Are you searching for a reliable and affordable pool safety inspection service? At Pool Barrier Inspection Victoria, we prioritize providing professional and efficient pool inspection services in Melbourne. Our goal is to ensure that your pool barriers adhere to the necessary safety standards, making the entire process seamless for you.
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skin-slave · 3 months ago
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parentingvip · 3 months ago
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daemonlogical · 1 year ago
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To be entirely fair, Greeks and Romans do not have a god of balance, nor do they have a aspect that represents space in its entirety (no Ouranos isn't Space, he doesn't include Earth). It also didn't help that adoptive as he is, Danny fully inherited the one thing Clockwork wanted to pass on: the willingness to be a chaos gremlin at a drop of a hat.
Percy and Billy enjoys this immensely. Annabeth and the Divine Twitch Chat? Not so much.
Grover is in a food coma from all the stress eating.
Prompt 81
Danny blinked at the small children Ellie was holding the hand of, looking quite proud of herself. The small children- between ten and twelve so somewhere similar to Ellie’s age- who both practically stank of magic and Gods. 
He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose even as Dan cackled while opening the door more to let them inside. “Alright, what’s your name, kids?”
“B-billy…um, Billy Batson...” “‘m Percy! Percy Jackson.” 
“Nice to meet you two- any idea where in your family you have a god or two, because one of you definitely smells like Zeus and I’m pretty sure Poseidon and I am not dealing with either of my half-brothers.” 
#prompts#dcxdp#dpxpj#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#billy batson#Danny was adopted by Clockwork who is the origin behind Kronos#Oh they're both orphans? No one to take care of them?#Goddamnit Clockwork you made sure Ellie found them didn't you#Liminals are hidden from monsters thanks to feeling like them & the dead#CW: If they won't take care of their kids then I'll give the lil demigods to my favorite son :)#The JL finding out Billy is a child: You need a guardian- how could we let this happen#Billy: Actually my older sister has looked 12 for the last 100 years and my younger brother looks 20 so that's very human-ist of you#Percy peering out at some camp people who are trying to see if he's home: MA There's some weird ass cats outside!#Percy: Am I allowed to throw the pool at them 'cause they aren't taking no for an answer#Danny teaching the kids how to use powers: Alright and now we're going to your other dad and moms to learn magic#Danny: And how to shoot a gun in Val's case because I will forget gun safety#Everlasting Quartet#Phantastic Four#“Hey Marvel how do you know that info about Dr Fate he looks so pissed??”#“Oh one of my parents know him and they don't get along so now we always take the chance to call him a lil Bitch but politely”#Percy: Billy if you can summon lightning and I can control water can we combine them#Billy: One way to find out- hey Daaaaan#Camp people trying to find Percy: Wtf wtf wtf#The pantheon: WHAT DO YOU MEAN KRONOS HAD ANOTHER CHILD?! WHERE?! HOW!?#Clockwork: Look at my Favorite Child who doesn't Fuck with the Timeline or are Raging Hypocrites & takes care of his kids#Clockwork curled up with Danny & new grandchildren in his chest like a mother crocodile: Everything is as it should be :)#Marvel: Look at my lil brother isn't he adorable he's a year younger than me but takes more after our other mom#Percy: Hi Mr Aquaman I can control water & talk to fish and was wondering if you have any tips#“Marvel we're going to die-” “No we're not lemme call my big brother- if he can destroy the timeline he can fix it” “If he What”
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mattscoquette · 2 months ago
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perv!matt using your panties to get himself off
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matt knew it was wrong. he knew it. but still, he couldn’t help himself from swiping your lacey panties off of nick’s floor when he went up there to grab a phone charger. he anxiously hurried back down to his room, almost as if you would suddenly teleport in front of him from the ice cream shop back to their house in a matter of moments.
back in the safety and privacy of his room, matt was quick to lock the door behind him. his cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, begging to be freed. he fiddled with his belt as he tugged his pants down, jeans pooling around his ankles as he slowly began to palm himself over his boxers.
matt tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, concealing his small whines and whimpers as he continued to tease himself. as his right hand worked, he looked down into his left, examining your underwear he’d stolen out of nick’s room. he admired the lace, and the little frills at the edges with a teeny tiny bow in the front. he felt himself getting harder and harder, finally pulling his aching cock out of his boxers.
his dick sprung up against his stomach, throbbing and dripping with pre cum. he shakily took your panties, slowly wrapping them around himself, moaning quietly at the sensation of the fabric as he began to stroke himself. he knew it was sick and perverted, but that didn’t stop him. if he couldn’t have you squeezing around him, your panties were the next best thing.
he slowly rubbed the panties along his cock, increasing the speed as he flicked his thumb over the tip teasingly. he let out soft grunts, scrunching his eyes closed as he thought about you being the one touching him. he wondered if you would think he was a total creep, or if you liked the idea of him getting himself off with your panties.
as he worked himself faster and faster, he felt himself begin to become lost in the sensation, his strokes turning sloppy and his breathing ragged. his cock throbbed in his hand as he tugged at it lazily, making sure to keep your panties wrapped perfectly around him. he bit his bottom lip, holding in his sounds as he grew closer and closer to his climax.
while he was touching himself, he hadn’t heard the front door unlock, when you and nick came home from getting ice cream. you walked over to his door, knocking lightly. “matt,” you spoke softly, “me an’ nick are back, we got you ice cream.”
matt held back a choked moan, rasping out an okay before letting out a small strand of curses while cumming hard all over your panties. he let out heavy pants, pulling the sticky fabric away from his now limp cock. he looked at your panties, now absolutelty wrecked with his cum. the sudden realization came over him, that not only did he cum from the sound of your voice, but he used your underwear to get himself off. he sighed softly, begrudgingly pulled his boxers and jeans back up, tucking your panties into his back pocket before walking out into the kitchen.
he headed to the table, keeping his gaze away from you as he swiftly snatched his ice cream, quickly returning to his bedroom. he was slick, but not enough. not enough to keep you from noticing your frilly and laced panties sticking out the back of matt's pockets. and in a weird, sick, and twisted way, you couldn't help but press your thighs together, feeling a heat in between your legs.
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© mattscoquette
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dmitriene · 4 months ago
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cw: omegaverse, knotting, marking and possessiveness.
you were invading simon's riley head, not only often flashing before his perilous black eyes, but also tormenting him in his dreams, your unfiltered, sweet ambrosial scent were hunting his senses, carving into his nostrils and making them flare, saliva pooling behind his closed mouth with popping fangs.
sweet little soldier, you didn't knew in what exact danger you were getting yourself into with your scent gland demonstrated in his face constantly, every breath he took is a perfect lungful of your addicting scent, rubbed against his gear when you were sticking to him purposefully, your pretty eyes always dazed and gawking at him.
ain't afraid to cling to him with your dainty fingers wrapping themselves tightly around his bicep, the rising wave of his tart, pungent smell doing nothing to shoo you away, not with your scent gland swelling with a need to be marked, belong to someone who won't let you walk around like that, irritating other's alpha's ruts.
you came to him yourself, foozling into his arms willingly with mind frazzled by your own heat, smelling of ripe want to be taken, crawling yourself out your poor nest on a wobbly legs to find his quarters, where anyone could've picked you by their way through the hallway, making simon's arms encircle your form with a too searing grasp, hiding you in the safety of his quarters.
lips behind his mask teased by sharp tips of his fangs, scraped to the bleeding wounds that flooded his mouth with metal tang, but the encasing scent of you, lustfully alluring in your bared vulnerability and craning neck, flashing him the view of the swollen, burning skin made his pupils dilate, eyes taking an shade of black, sinking tar, imagining how you'll taste on his tongue.
simon has a mind to not send you back, he dreamt of you, of this moment, wanting to be the one to mar your pure skin with blooming marks of belonging and leave a bleeding, thrumming mark at your neck, only him and no one else, no other alpha is good enough, and no one had a chance with you from the start.
you picked simon, smart thing, laying your eyes on the more menacing men of all around, with his chocking scent that is too much even when he's out of rut, swirling pools of inking nothingness that replaced his eyes never could've let you know that he's intirested in your persistent attention, but you're here, anyway, and it makes his blood roar.
you're sweetly docile on his cold sheets, even with your body exposed to it's full vulnerability, pulsing pussy oozing pools of slick beneath your sticky thighs, and with simon still being half clothed, the only thing you do is preen at him with rumbling purrs, nuzzling the duvet beneath you that reeks of him and sticks to your itching skin.
loosely wet, legs obediently limp when he spreads them briefly, stilling himself to gaze at the glossines of your puffy folds, the shiny glare of your pungent juices that fill his nostrils, even the thick cloth on his face unable to conceal him from anything that relates to you, the gleam of glossy eyes, the all consuming scent, making simon drawl a husky growl.
you writhe to present yourself for him, would've rolled adorably on your soft tummy if he hadn't pin you down, looming over you almost menacingly, tattooed arm braced above your head, if not for his thick, gloveless fingers that were plunging in your gushing dewy pussy, scissoring between thin walls and feeling the tight clench around his soaked digits, sucking him in.
too sweet, both in the way you look and taste, your saccharine slick blooming on his taste buds when he licks a hot, filthy swathe from his knuckles and up to the pruney tips of fingers, thin lips shining with accumulated spit and your juices, licked clean to sate his curiosity about the way you taste, but now simon needs to sate his cock and your heat.
your body melted against the mattress, chest rising rapidly with greedy lungfuls of air, making your ribcage burn as you watched simon carefully with gleaming eyes, tracing the opening plane of the fat and muscles adorning him, as he rolled his shirt up, inch by inch that revealed the scarred canvas of his pale, wide chest, getting rid of the cloth swiftly, shoulders rolling with small cracks of stiffed bones.
happy trail of dark, thin hair that trailed beneath the waistband of his pants that he was getting rid of, unzipping them with slightly shaky fingers, veins popping with blue webs on the thick skin as he rolled them down, letting his heavy cock bob out through the boxer briefs, tenting the darkened fabric with wet spot, thick musk that filled the air licking at your senses.
simon does it as fast as possible without snapping, trying not to rip his clothes off his body and pounce on you, throwing his pants off the bed, before rolling the soaked fabric of his boxers down, his onyx gaze locked eerily with yours as he gripped the fat girth of his cock, rudy flesh adorned with popped veins and dribbling, pearly precum from his slit, squelching obscenely at each jerk of his wrist.
you claw your needy hands towards him, wanting to caress his rippling abs, make his cock sink inside of you and knot you as his, not registering when garbled string of words spilled from your lips, begging him to finally give it to you, voice small and tipping on the string of crying out the tears that bead in your glazy eyes, and simon isn't the one to neglect his omega.
he's the one to take care of your needs, the one who can give you what you crave so deeply, sate the hunger that bubbles like molten lava in your belly, scorching hot, making every inch of your skin beneath his calloused palms slick with sweat that rolls off of you, shining under the dim light and begging to be licked off.
you obey his grip on your supple hips, blunt nails sinking into the fat of flesh and you're too far away to feel the tiny pinpricks of pain, letting him tug you closer to him as he lifts your legs up, and you obediently lope them around his waist, ankles crossing together against the small of his bowed back, as he slaps his throbbing cock between your fluttering folds, rubbing each inch of his girth along the tacky mess, before sinking against your gaping hole.
fattened, bulbous tip passing through the ring of your tightening muscles, each inch gradually managing to still stretch you around his cock, letting you feel how big he is despite your pussy being as loose as possible, slick dripping out of your gooey hole like molasses to ease the glide and spur simon on a tentative thrusts, one shallow roll of his hips enough for you to tighten with stars in your eyes and rapturous cry spilling from your throat.
your whole body seizing, picking on rippling feeling of your silken walls around his meaty cock that make simon's eyes turn pupil less, blackening completely as he moves his body to blanket you, trapping you in a crushing embrace as he lowered himself down and picked up the pace of his thrusts, freely stuffing you full and stretching your thin walls to the brim, forcing you to accommodate the fat shaft that now was rearranging your insides with frantic motions.
fat cock mercilessly sawing in and out of you, your body unable to jolt beneath the wall of heavy muscles and swallowing palms of his hands that mapped along every inch of you, groping at the round globs of your ass to prop you securely, raking to play with your puffy nipples, capped to the pair of pretty tits that were jiggling right in his face, your spit shined lips open wide just a bit higher, making him howl in answer to your punched, tiny gasps.
your hands clinging and clawing with rosy crescent for stability on any place of his body, the beefy biceps, the wide shoulders, but you want to have him closer, and when you sink with stinging nails somewhere beneath his covered neck, amber of his eyes peering at your lidded gaze and needy sobs that spill from your mouth, simon frees one hand to rip his balaclava off.
no point of holding anything back, not with your pussy tightening with rapid pulsing as your glassy gaze rakes along his tousled, askew hair, looking pressed against his skull slightly, until you skid your fingers in the locks, tugging lightly to bump his forehead against yours, and your smell grows even thicker so close, his pale eyelashes fluttering when he takes a lungful, and then slots your mouthes together.
skimming his teeth along the plump flesh, biting with little sting and lapping off the pearling blood, so fragile, sucking your lip into his mouth before releasing with a wet pop to suckle on your tongue, catching as you tried to curl it's around his, wet mouth swallowing your low, whimpering moans, as his balls slapped against your ass with the squelch of your ceaseless slick.
it wasn't long before you felt your orgasm lick at your tummy, making your toes curl and twitch against the dip of simon's spine, his mouth leaving yours to focus on the rapid clench of your gummy walls, latching tightly around his cock with every frantic bounce of his hips forward, and simon could feel the way the root of his cock grew thicker than the rest of his shaft, knot swelling smoothly, and your cunt was more than ready to accept him.
he knotted you when your little sounds developed in ragged, confused little moans, holding onto his hair with tight, whitening grip of your knuckles, feeling the unyielding, swelling pressure of simon's cock at your tightening hole, pummeling into you at brutal, sudden pace that knocked air out of your lungs, his breath morphing into growling pants, skimming along the burning skin of your neck, tongue lolling to lick along the salty sweat, sucking a drop that rolled down your gland, before sinking his teeth in.
crying scream guggled out of your mouth as hot tears streamed down your eyes, rolling harshly into the back of your skull as you clamped down tightly on simon's spilling cock, knot catched securely between your spasming walls, splitted to your limit around the rippling girth that pumped you with soft rocks back and forth, your body frissoning, until simon wasn't been able to move.
stuck in your pulsing cunt, milking him with rapid, rhythmic clenches to the last drop of the creamy cum that was oozing out from your stuffed hole, seeping down simon's still cock with frothy white streaks, dripping down the sodden sheets and duvet, as he lapped his tongue against your gland, scarlet blood coating his swollen, bitten lips, smeared in a sweet layer as he cleaned the fresh, palpitating mark.
this spoke about your belonging to him, his sweet omega, the one he can and would call as his own, keep you stuck on his cock every night with swelled, imprinted mark of his sharp teeth on your neck for anyone to gawk on, as your consciousness slipped with whiny call of his name, sending pleasant shudders down his spine, as he peered at you again, his mate, safe and sound in his arms, knotted full of him and reeking of his pheromones.
main masterlist. quidelines.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 4 months ago
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Safe
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Gotham is dangerous. You know that. The whole world knows that. But that doesn't mean your job lets you go home before sunset. You didn't intend to be out so late, but your coworker had an emergency, and of course, no one else could come in. So, great, now you're walking Gothams streets when you should be warm in bed. At least your boss promised you overtime.
You're pulled from your thoughts at the sound of heavy footsteps behind you. It makes you tense, your fingers curl tighter around the pepper spray in your pocket. A quick glance in the window you pass revels a bulky, disgruntled, stumbling group of figures following you. Your throat tightens, and you walk a little quicker. You should have called Jason. Why didn't you call Jason? Usually, he walks you home if your shift is this late. Because it's a short walk. Because you can handle yourself, and he's busy, and you weren't supposed to be out tonight. You remind yourself, cursing silently. This is fine. You can handle yourself.
You count them as you pass the next window. One quickly turns into two. Then three. And then, your heart skips a beat as a fourth figure turns the corner in front of you. Okay, change of plans, cross the street and enter whatever rundown 24/7 shop is open.
That plan is quickly derailed when they start shouting at you, threatening you. Your steps slow, fear pooling in your gut as your mind races to find a way out of this situation. Your fingers slip against your phone, weighing calling GCPD.
Faster than you can process, a hand grabs your arm and tugs you into the alley, causing a strangled noise to leave your throat.
"Move." A heavily modulated voice. Rough leather gloves. A lingering gunpowder smell. Jason. No, not completely– He's Red Hood right now. A towering, intimidating mass of heavy weaponry and unyielding armor.
"C'mon." He pushes you along quickly, a steady hand guiding you by the small of your back into a shadowed hiding place in the alley.
You don't quite manage words, but the relief spreading through your body nearly brings tears to your eyes.
Jason crowds you against the wall, cool, sturdy armor, a shield between you and the dim light of the street. He tilts his head towards the entrance of the alley, listening as rough, slurring voices call for you. But they don't come closer, agitated by the loss of what seemed like easy prey and eventually fade. His helmet tips down to focus on you.
"Are you hurt?"
You shake your head, unable to form the words just yet.
He nods, slowly taking stock of you. "You're out late." The words coming out half questioning, half accusing but so, very gentle.
"Work– someone called out. No one else could take the shift."
"You should have called." He says evenly, voice softening as he takes in your shaky tone. He dips his head to rest his face place against your shoulder, and you're not quite sure who's more relieved that he's here.
"I know. I'm sorry. I should have listened." You say quickly, knowing full well what could have happened, what he sees every night when he spends his nights protecting Gothams streets. He always tells you to call if you need anything, but the idea of bothering him while he was saving lives? You couldn't bring yourself to dial his number.
"You did listen," he replies, soothing and silencing your worries as he nuzzles into your neck again. "That's what makes you so special. You listen to me. You follow my lead, right into safety. I don't even have to say anything and you trust me. You just do it. You're perfect."
Jason pauses for a moment and pulls back to trace his thumb over your jaw.
"You know that?"
His words send your heart into flutters and you hope, that even with his focus on you, always on you, he doesn't see the goosebumps forming under his touch.
"Shouldn't you, you know, go after them?" You ask after a moment, careful to change the topic from yourself.
He hums softly. "Batgirl's already on it. I'm walking you home."
"You don't have to do–" You start, gulit settling in your chest.
"I do. I want to. Let me?" He runs his thumb over your cheek, slow and almost reverent. The leather slides over your skin, the gesture so familiar it might as well be indented into your skin. You don't have it in you to read into what it means. But it soothes the guilt nonetheless.
You nod once, relenting. How could you deny him? It makes him smile beneath the helmet how easily you agree to him. For both your sakes, he needs to see you home safe.
He hesitates, glowing eyes of his mask studying you. He carefully steps out of the tiny hiding place he shielded you in, and if the adrenaline wasn't fading from your system, maybe you would have noticed the reluctance seeped into his movements. He offers you his hand.
You take it without a second thought.
He squeezes your fingers once and begins to guide you home. Gotham is still dangerous, dark and cold.
But Jason's there. And there's nowhere safer for you than with him.
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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 5 months ago
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Desire, I'm Hungry
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Summary: You and Steve happen upon a strange flower and suddenly find yourselves separated from your friends in the Upside Down. An unrelenting desire overtakes the both of you, taking your friendship past the point of no return.
CW: Porn with plot. Sex pollen (so this could be considered forced intimacy). Underlying idiots in love. Mutual pining. AFAB Reader. Steve's canon S4 injuries. Steve's a little mean. Fluff ending. Biting. Blood. Fingering. Makeshift gag. Unprotected P in V. Reader has a vagina. Small breeding kink (it is Steve, after all). Creampie.
This one would not leave my brain until I got it out! Enjoy!
WC: 10.4K
In all the years you had come to know Steve Harrington it had its ups and downs. Being his best friend came with firsthand experience with all things Upside Down that ultimately led you into some pretty precarious situations.
Demogorgans, demo-dogs, Russians and a monster composed solely of melted people were the least of your worries because HE had always been there.
Until this very moment you saw him as untouchable. An invincible protector, the one person who came when you needed to be saved, not the person who needed saving.
He'd reached for your hand in desperation as he disappeared under Lover's Lake. The tips of his fingers slipped through yours, leaving you grasping and screaming out in panic and shock.
“Steve! No, no, no, no!” You scrambled next to Robin, pulling off your jacket about to jump in when she suddenly caught your wrist.
“Hey Y/N! No! You can't just jump in there!” She yelled. Before you could get a word of protest out, you heard Eddie yell behind you.
“Woah, Wheeler you're not going in there, are you?”
“Just wait here.” She replied, briefly cutting her eyes to you before the sound of splashing water drew your attention.
“Holy shit,” Robin breathed out, clutching a hand over her mouth.
“Robin, we can't stay here. Not with both of them down there! Let's go!” Reaching out to her, as you turned back to look at the metalhead. “Eddie?”
“What? No. You can't go. What the fuck man!” He wailed. “She said wait.”
“Yeah, we heard her.” Robin finally nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you both leapt from the boat.
-
You'd never been a strong swimmer, even with all the summers spent by the Harrington's pool. Much more interested in getting some sun instead of swimming laps.
Only now you were regretting never listening to the boy when he tried to give you those life preserving pointers, as you swam to the pulsating gate beneath Lover's Lake. Your lungs were on fire by the time you made it to the opening, Robin extending her hand to help you through.
Eddie surprisingly followed a moment after, while you were still trying to catch your breath.
Suddenly, ear splitting screeching noises and Nancy's voice pulled your focus in time to see Satan’s own flying hell spawn attacking Steve on the ground, as she attempted to fight them off.
“Oh my God! We have to help them!” You shouted, taking off in a sprint toward your friends, Eddie and Robin hot on your heels. All regard for your own safety was quickly forgotten.
A weapon was the furthest thing from your mind but as you drew closer, you realized just how dire the situation appeared.
Steve was being strangled by one of the creatures, with its tail wrapped around his neck and another making a meal of him. Nancy had successfully pried one off and was in the midst of fighting it back.
“Steve! Just hang on!” You shouted, stomping a foot down directly on this thing's back as it shrieked out in pain releasing its jaw from his side, immediately turning its attention toward you.
“Oh fuck.” You hissed, as it leapt up taking flight. You turned to run but Robin was right there with an oar.
You ducked as she bashed into this thing, splintering the wood as it fell to the ground. Rushing over you began to stomp on it repeatedly until it stopped moving.
You all turned in time to see Steve holding this creature by the tail and whip it around hitting the ground until it lost consciousness. Stepping on it with his bare foot and pulling until he ripped it apart with his bare hands.
“Fuck,” you huffed, stunned. He was bloodied and bruised, as he spit blood from his mouth, but he was alive.
Robin leaned over slightly, whispering low enough for only you to hear.
“Might want to pick your jaw up off the floor.”
You shut your mouth and shot her a sideways glance, as she snickered.
The joy of a victory was short lived as you rushed over to Steve’s side.
‘Steve, are you okay?” Suddenly hurdling yourself into his chest with a thud as he grunted out, throwing your arms around his neck as he wound his around your back, holding a little too tightly and maybe a few seconds too long before letting go to give you a proper answer.
“Well,” Looking down at his torso, when you stepped back. “They took about a pound of flesh. But, other than that, yeah, never better.”
Robin began ranting about rabies, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Steve as your own set of worries began to seep in. Completely lost on the conversation around you until you heard Nancy yell.
“The woods. Come on!”
“Y/N, c’mon!” Steve frantically tugged at your arm before you all made a run for cover.
You were huddled under skull rock pressed in like sardines, waiting with bated breath until the bats finally dispersed.
Everyone grumbled, and voiced concerns as you stood. Steve took a few uneasy steps before he fell against the rocky surface opposite of you.
“Oh shit,” coming out on a shaky exhale, as he tried to upright himself.
“Steve?” Your head whipped around as you stepped into his space, reaching out to help steady him.
“I'm fine. I'm fine.” He huffed out, still a little dazed.
“No, no you're not. You're bleeding. Sit down.” Worrying over him.
He slid down, as you knelt in front of him, guiding his wrist to take his hand away from his oozing wound. Nancy began to tear the bottom of her shirt, quickly handing you the fabric.
Robin started rambling about rabies again before you glared at her.
“Rob, not helping!” You hissed before she mumbled an apology and backed away from the two of you.
“You ready?” Asking him as he looked down at you, poised with his makeshift bandage.
“Yeah, just do it.” He pinched his eyes closed, bracing himself, wincing once you pulled it taut against his abdomen and began wrapping.
“Too tight?” Chancing a glance up at him but he was already staring down at you, with a scowl plastered across his features.
“Why the hell are you down here?” He suddenly blurted out.
“What the hell do you mean? We all jumped in for you.” His question genuinely bewildered you, eyes drifting back down, concentrating on the task at hand. Wouldn't he do the same for any of you?
“You should have stayed in the boat. Like I told you to.” He chides.
You work to finish covering his wounds, ignoring the sting of his words. Scolding you as if you were a petulant child who didn't listen to their father.
“A thank you would be nice.” Mumbling out as he winced when you tightened it to begin tying it off.
“A thank you?” Scoffing down at you. “Well instead of me dying, now we all might die. Don't you get that? Jesus, Y/N you don't lis— Fuck!” He hissed out.
You made sure to pull the last knot even tighter, effectively cutting off the rest of his little tirade.
“Oops.” You smirked, finally standing and stepping away from him.
You were drenched and cold, suddenly all too aware of your grim situation. You sure as hell didn't need a lecture from him right now after saving his ass.
“Fuck off Steve! We were all trying to save you!” You shouted, leaving the rest of the crew to stare around awkwardly, shifting gazes amongst each other.
“I didn't need to be saved! You should have stayed on the fucking boat!” He yelled back.
“Hey, guys,” Nancy cleared her throat, trying to break the tension between the two of you before it got any worse.
“What?!” Shouting in unison, turning your heads to look over at her.
“Maybe we should get going, yeah? And uh… stay a little quieter?” Her eyes drifted to the treetops overhead, scanning a moment.
You'd both been so fixated on the other, the horrors of the upside down had slipped your minds. She was right, you were trying to avoid attention, not bring it directly on top of you.
“Let's all just calm down and get through this together.” She hummed, satisfied with your nods of agreement taking off ahead of you once more as Robin followed.
Eddie's wide eyes met yours and then Steve's.
“Right, I should, uh…” he said, thumb pointed in their direction. “But uh, here.” Shrugging his vest off before forcefully tossing it toward Steve's chest.
“For your modesty dude.” Smirking before he darted away to follow after the girls.
Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, voice coming out quieter this time but still laced with annoyance.
“C’mon. Just stay close and don't wander off.” Before taking a few steps to catch up to Eddie.
“Don't wander off.” Mocking under your breath, staying a few paces behind, not wanting to be near your ungrateful so-called best friend.
The forest got darker the further you went. It felt like eyes were on you the entire time. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled and uneasy, closing the gap between yourself and the boys.
You were close enough now to catch bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, more Eddie talking than not. You knew Steve well enough that he was still brooding about the entire situation. He didn't hate you, quite the opposite. His harsh tone only masks his own worries and fears.
You caught him more than once glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were never too far away.
“Dustin… said I was badass?”
“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid WORSHIPS you, man. Like, you got no idea. It's rather annoying to be honest.”
You smirked at that. Dustin never told Steve anything like that, coming off as an annoying little brother all the time.
“Those ladies jumped in after you and I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Wheeler there, she didn’t waste a second. I mean not a split second. She just dove right in. I don’t know what happened between you two, but… I’d get her back, man. Whatever it takes. ‘Cause that… that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
Steve stops at Eddie's spiel, looking over his shoulder once more, as you roll your eyes. Of course it was always about Nancy. The one that got away. Not like you tried to dive in first, right? Eddie was too freaked out to notice back there.
Before Steve had the chance to respond the ground began to shake once more, as everyone tried to hang on. You lost your footing, tripping over a stump and thankfully not landing on one of those damn vines, losing sight of everyone behind an overgrown thatch of bushes.
The rumbling slowed to a dull roar just as something caught your eye in a small clearing up ahead, emanating a small bluish-purple glow through the trees ahead. It was faint but while everything in the Upside Down was muted and dull it stuck out like a sore thumb.
As if it was pulling you in, you stumbled forward, quickly righting yourself and heading toward it. It was pulsing slightly; a steady, slow rhythm like a heartbeat.
You stopped at the center of the clearing, as you stepped closer, you realized it was a flower or at least flower shaped. Something akin to a Dahlia back home but it was a glowing azure color, petals almost transparent.
There were a few unopened buds that were also pulsing. The closed pods thumped, not taking notice of the way the pulses quickened as you stepped closer.
Your mind was clouded as you watched them. Beauty in a barren landscape, so mesmerizing you didn't hear Steve calling out for you.
As if on autopilot, your hand began to drift toward it as he jogged up beside you.
“Hey, did you not hear me calling for you? What're y—” He trailed off, feeling helpless watching your fingertips graze the pod as he tried to yank you back, but it was too late.
You were both too close when the thing practically exploded open, releasing a cloud of pearlescent powder into the space between you.
The dust landed on everything in a five-foot radius, as it invaded your lungs causing you both to choke on what you could only think of as its pollen. He grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you away.
“What the hell was that?” He asked in between coughs and a few sneezes.
“I don't…” before you could properly form a response, screeching could be heard from overhead once more.
“Shit!” He hissed, before shouting back to the others to run for it. The hive mind. Everything was connected down here, it only made sense the flowers were too. The flying bats were back.
You and Steve took off the opposite way that you entered the clearing, dodging vines and low hanging branches in the process. He was trying to slow down so you could keep up.
“C’mon y/n. I think I see a building up ahead!” He shouted.
It was a dilapidated looking cabin, but it would have to do, as he took the steps two at a time reaching the porch with you right behind him.
He barreled through the door, thankful it wasn't locked as you rushed past him, slamming it shut in time to see some of the creatures flying low, unsure if they'd spotted you.
His hands quickly moved to the deadbolt, looking around the small space grabbing a chair, wedging it under the door handle.
You both stood there a moment facing the door, trying to catch your breath as a loud thump echoed overhead as it landed on the roof. It let out an ear-piercing screech that had you covering your ears. Steve hovered his finger over his lips as a shushing motion as a few more thuds and mirrored screeches followed.
He was trying to think, shining the flashlight this way and that, finding an open door near the edge of the kitchen, spotting a set of stairs that were leading down.
He quietly shuffled over to it, shining his beam ahead. It looked like it led to a small basement or at least a root cellar, as he nodded for you to follow as he began his descent.
You sighed, but reluctantly walked over as quietly as possible and trailed behind him, closing the door softly behind you. There was no lock, but it did latch shut.
It was dark, the only light emanating from his flashlight, as he shined it back to the stairs for you to climb down.
“I think we'll be safer down here.” He whispered. “There's a cot over there.” Pointing to the corner.
It was a small room. No other outlet, looking more like a bunker than a cellar. Shelves lined the wall with food and various supplies. At least you were covered if you had to stay a while but hoped it wouldn't come to that.
“Steve,” You began but he immediately cut you off holding his hand up.
“If you hadn't gotten distracted, we wouldn't be in this situation.” His voice is a little louder, but still barely above a whisper.
“It's not my fault Steve, I saw something glowing, like it was pulling me in. You didn't have to fucking follow me!” You knew he was right, but you were feeling attacked.
“Yeah, I did. I'm not leaving anyone behind in this fucking place. Even if you can't follow simple directions.” He huffs, throwing a hand to his hip as he surveyed the room. “Not enough you get us separated, but you have to go and touch that weird ass flower. God knows what the hell that shits going to do to us.”
He was venting more than yelling toward you at this point, frustrated with the entire situation.
“You knew you weren't supposed to touch shit… that hive mind…”
“Steve.”
He continued to mumble over in the corner, with his back turned, throwing his hands around in dramatic fashion.
“But no! You touch it and now we're contaminated…”
“Steve!” Hissing out more forcefully, finally knocking him from his train of thought and little rant.
“What?!” He spun around, throwing the beam from his flashlight directly in your face. “What Y/N?”
You threw a hand up shielding your eyes with a grimace before he quickly lowered it, mumbling an apology.
“Can you just stop pacing? It's not helping anything. You're just giving me a headache.” You grumbled, sitting down on the cot. It slightly squeaked under your newly added weight, as your elbows landed on your knees, bringing your hands to cover your face with a groan.
“You're giving me a headache…” he mumbled slightly under his breath, but you still caught it. He found a small chair in the opposite corner, plopping down with a sigh.
After about ten minutes of total silence, you laid back on the cot, unwilling to give him any more attention. Though he continued to mutter under his breath occasionally, you ignored him.
“Hey,” he finally spoke up. “I'm going to give it a few more minutes and see if they're still on the roof. Maybe we can make a break for Nance’s place and regroup.”
“Yeah, fine.” Huffing a reply with an eye roll.
It was then you noticed a strange tingling on the skin around your neck, kind of like a cold chill. Shaking your head as you sit up, to rub the back of your neck.
“You ok?” He asked, watching intently.
“Fine. Just… a chill.” You shrugged, as he nodded.
Another drawn out silence before either of you attempt to speak.
“Hey, are you… do you feel itchy?” He asked, scratching his exposed shoulder.
“Um, well now that you mention it, yeah. This spot on my neck is itchy.” Your hand absentmindedly reached up, scratching at it again.
“It's that damn flower. I knew it!” He exclaimed, standing up. “Look, we need to see if we can get out of here.”
You watched him carefully retreat up the stairs, his footsteps creaking across the floorboards above your head, stopping for a few moments before making their way back over to the door as he came back into view.
“Ok, looks like we might be here for a while. They're still moving around up there, and when I looked out the window there's a few in the surrounding trees.” He slid back down into the chair, spreading out as much as he could to make himself comfortable.
“Fuck, isn't that just great?” You huffed out, taking your turn to pace the small room. Was it getting hot in here? A bead of sweat rolled down your back. When did it get so muggy?
“Just calm down, we'll get out of here. Okay?” He sounded so sure of himself; you almost believed him.
You sat back down, stretching your legs out onto the cot and finally laying back. The situation was looking bleak, your own mind filling with anxious stress. At least Steve’s here. You don’t have to die alone.
You watched him from the corner of your eye, wiping his brow several times before finally rolling your head toward his direction.
The vest Eddie gave him hung open, revealing his chest, the thick smattering of hair slick and matted down. Was he sweating too? His toned chest moving up and down, a steady rhythm with each breath he took. His head was leaned back on the wall behind him, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
You pulled your lip between your teeth, before letting go as he picked his head up looking at you as if he could feel your eyes on him. You didn't look away, holding his gaze.
“Steve?” You finally asked.
“Yeah?” His eyes shift away from your face, trailing down your body before looking back up as his tongue darted out wetting his parched lips.
“Is it hot in here?” Sitting up, fanning yourself. “I feel like I'm burning up.”
“Yeah… yeah, no. I thought it was just me.” Letting out a sigh. “It could be the close quarters, but I don't think we should go upstairs yet.”
“No, yeah. You're right.” You laid back down, eyes to the ceiling. You could ignore the heat if it meant survival for at least a bit longer.
He turned the light off a little while later, trying to conserve what little battery life it had left.
At some point you drifted off to sleep because you were roused by him touching your arm. It felt like ice touching your flushed skin as you sat straight up trying to catch your bearings.
“Hey! Woah, it's just me.” He soothed, as you flinched away from his unusual cold touch. He pulled his hands back, giving you some space. “I wanted to check on you. I don't think it's hot down here. I think it's us.”
You felt dizzy sitting all the way up, throwing the back of your hand to your forehead. You were on fire. Your nearly dry clothes were sticking to the dampness of your flushed skin, making you cringe. There was also an overwhelming feeling of an unquenchable thirst in the back of your throat.
“Fuck, Steve. I really did it this time.” You folded over yourself, head in your hands, groaning at the way you almost felt drunk or drugged, wondering if he felt as bad as you did.
“No, hey. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I’m the reason we’re in this situation.” You moved your head to look up at him, willing your bleary eyes to focus. A thin sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, hair sticking against his forehead. His eyes are what caught your attention the most.
His usual golden flaked, honey hued irises were a mere fraction of a ring around a black abyss. This pollen was affecting him the same, he just had a better poker face but he couldn't control the truth his eyes showed you.
“Hey, you okay?” He asked, as you sat there unblinking.
“Yeah, I…” Shaking your head to look away. “Yeah, no. I don't fucking know right now.”
He shuffled over to one of the shelves looking for some water or anything to help alleviate your symptoms. Pausing for a moment, wondering if anything could be trusted from the Upside Down but there wasn't anything of value he could find in any case.
“Fuck!” He hissed, turning back around.
“Steve, it's ok.” You croaked out. “Just sit down.” You patted the small space beside you on the cot as you scooted over. He hung his head and skirted back over, sitting down carefully trying not to touch you.
_
He didn't want to tell you that while you were sleeping this overwhelming urge started to come over him. An ache low in his belly, and groin. It started out dull but began to grow, radiating through him as a spiked sense of arousal began thrumming through his veins.
Shame began to wash over him. How could he be so turned on at a time like this? A few more minutes passed when he was hit with the most intoxicating scent. It was faint at first. When he took in another heavy exhale it invaded his nostrils and filled his lungs.
He didn't understand where it was coming from, but he felt light, almost high, as he continued to breathe in and out, letting it wash over him. He could only describe it as a familiar, yet exotic thing, wrapping him up in a warm hug. It was almost irresistible, in the way a bakery or candy shop lures you in with promises that, yes it tastes just as good as it smells.
He turned the light back on, shining it toward your still sleeping form, shifting his hooded and heavy eyes over you stretched out on the small cot. There wasn't much skin showing, aside from your exposed arms but then you turned toward him as your shirt rose up slightly, exposing a sliver along your hip that suddenly had him drooling.
He felt his cock stir in his pants, with an ache that was suddenly all consuming. He hadn't realized when he'd gotten up, but he was suddenly standing over you, reaching out, fingertips grazing your arm.
You stirred slightly, as he watched your lips part with a soft breath settling back down.
He placed his palm to your arm, fingers wrapping around your soft, pliable flesh and an instant feeling of relief flooded his senses but then you'd woken, startling him out of this sudden trance.
-
You stretched and yawned beside him, shedding the last bits of slumber from your small nap. You couldn't have been out long, but you were so tired and thirsty.
Had he been awake the whole time? A sudden pang of guilt overtook you at the thought.
“If you need a nap, I'll move so you can take the cot.” Saying as you slowly stood, stiff on unsure legs, as you swayed just a bit plopping back down, your arm brushing his. It was brief but the feeling was cool against the searing heat radiating from you.
“Woah, just take it easy, yeah?” He turned toward you, hands at the ready but just hovering. He didn't trust himself right now.
“How… how are you so cold? Your skin, I mean? I thought you were hot too?”
“I am, look at me. I'm fucking sweating.” He gestured toward himself, a thin sheen of sweat still covering his face and body.
“Can I…” You couldn't get the question out before your hand was already reaching up, suddenly gripping his wrist.
Your brain is flooded with endorphins. A dopamine hit that had you suddenly searching for more. Your eyes closed at the contact, missing the way Steve’s mouth parted slightly releasing a shuddered breath.
As if you had no control of your body, your other hand moved up, planting itself firmly on Steve's chest, eliciting a small whimper from him that made your eyes shoot back open.
“Do you feel that?” You asked, watching his eyes flutter closed. All he could do was nod, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
You moved his wrist up, as he opened his hand, already anticipating what you were thinking, as you placed his palm to your chest.
“Oh my God,” it slipped out, almost a moan more than words. His hand immediately soothing the patch of exposed skin that had your eyelids lazily closing once more.
“It feels so good, Steve.” You breathed out.
Your words were doing nothing to quell his ever-growing arousal. He took in a heavy breath and there it was. That overpowering aroma was suddenly surrounding him once more, too heavy to ignore.
It was you.
When you opened your heavy-lidded eyes, the pupils were blown wide, full of lust and desire. Your lips parted slightly, releasing a small exhale you had been holding. All he wanted to do was lean in and press his lips to yours, letting his tongue explore and taste all that you had to offer.
“No.” He hissed out, jumping up and stumbling back, putting a little space between the two of you.
“What? What's wrong?” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact.
“This. This isn't… Jesus!” He whispered out, trying to maintain his composure. “Can't you see what's happening? It's the goddamn flower, that powder. It's making us… whatever this is.” Gesturing between the two of you.
Of course he had an attraction to you. He'd been harboring, what he thought, were unrequited feelings for the better part of two years.
“Yeah, I know, but it feels so good when you touch me, Steve.” Your voice was dripping with seduction, even if you hadn't meant it that way. Your head was getting all fuzzy again, swaying a little.
“Goddamnit, we need to get out of here.” He hissed, wiping his forehead. “I'm checking upstairs again.”
You watched him go, leaning back on the small cot once more.
Aside from the dizziness, there was something stirring just under your skin. An itch you couldn't quite scratch, a buzz or a hum starting at the base of your neck, traveling down your spine sending a sudden spark to your lower abdomen like when you were… Oh God. Your legs closed as if by their own volition when that spark suddenly had your core clenching around nothing just as he descended back down the stairs.
“I think we're almost in the clear. The ones in the trees are gone and… hey, are you okay?” Finally noticing the almost pained expression etched across your face.
“I… I'm… Steve, what the hell is wrong with us?” You sat up quickly, getting to your feet with a gentle sway. He didn't think this time reaching for you.
His touch both soothed and electrified you. Cooling hands on hot skin but an even hotter feeling pooling between your thighs, making a small whimper escape you.
He closed his eyes as your cheek hit his chest. He was trying to think of something, anything else other than the way you felt against him.
You inhaled deeply, his woodsy musk surrounding you entirely. It was illogical. You'd both been in the lake and running through the woods, yet his scent was mouth watering.
“God, Steve, you smell so good.” You murmured, feeling intoxicated, grabbing onto Eddie's vest with clenched fists.
“Yeah, s—so do you.” Dropping his hands to rest on your hips, your head lifting at his admission.
“Yeah?” You asked, almost breathless. He nods, licking his lips, your eyes landing there as your hands slip under the vest smoothing over his chest, the coarse hair tickling your palms as a shiver ran down his spine.
It's like you couldn't stop yourself, stepping closer into his space as his grip on you tightened, pulling you fully into him, your lower stomach meeting his hips.
“Steve?” Asking as you inch forward, calves beginning to strain as you stand on the tips of your toes.
“Yeah?” He asks, holding his breath.
“I really want to kiss you.”
No sooner than the statement left your lips, he surged forward closing the gap.
Parched from the day's activities left his usual plush, soft looking lips chapped and dry but you didn't mind.
An immediate feeling of relief washed over you. It was like finding an oasis in the desert, drinking the taste of him down, briefly quenching that immeasurable thirst.
He tilted his head, bringing his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as his nose pressed further into your cheek. You worked in tandem until his tongue dared to slip out, silently begging for permission.
You parted your lips with a soft moan as they met, slowly circling and entangling but you were hungry for more. Your hand slid up his chest and wound around the nape of his neck, finding his usual soft strands of hair, dirty and matted, pulling on the ends before pulling him closer, earning you a moan that you eagerly swallowed down.
The hand on your hip traveled south, snaking its way to the fat of your ass, suddenly groping and kneading your pliant flesh through your jeans pushing you further into him. His now very prominent hard cock pressed into the softness of your lower abdomen, taking you by surprise when you felt it twitch between you as he groaned.
At some point the two of you had begun moving, only realizing it when your back hit the far wall, knocking you from your trance. Your lips separated but still momentarily connected by a thin string of saliva as you pant into each other's mouths.
“Fuck, I need you, Steve.” You hissed out, pushing at the shoulders of the denim vest he still wore.
“Wait,” A moment of clarity for him, grabbing your wrists to halt your movements making you pout, as he looked around the dingy, cobweb infested space.
“Shit I— we can't do that down here.”
“Why not?” Asking, as your lower lip jutted out, eyebrows crinkling. The ache in your lower abdomen was getting worse, your clit was throbbing, practically begging for any kind of stimulation.
He shouldn't have looked at you. Your eyes were glossy in the dim light, looking as if tears were about to roll down your cheeks. He wasn't any better off. His cock was throbbing painfully against his pants, a wet patch of precum visible where his head laid.
“Goddamnit!” He hissed, pausing for a deep breath, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Because I don't want the first time with you to be on a filthy basement cot in the upside down!”
You couldn't help the grin that lifted the edges of your lips into a smirk, as you continued to stare at his bared throat. Wondering for a moment what it would be like to sink your teeth into him. This deep primal hunger was overpowering your senses, overtaking any other basic needs.
“Fuck me upstairs then.” You blurted out.
“Wh—what?” As if he'd misheard you, whipping his head back down.
“I said,” leaning closer to him. “Fuck. Me. Upstairs. There's a bed up there.” You nip at his nose and giggle when he pulls back, grip moving, holding firm to your shoulders.
When it disbursed, you had taken the brunt of the pollen, if you could even call it that, apparently it was affecting you more severely, unable to concentrate on anything else for more than a few seconds at a time.
“We can't— you— don't know what you're saying, and those things are still up there.”
“Stevie, please?” Your voice drips with desire, sultry and sweet. Looking up at him with your best doe eyes had all manner of his resolve quickly fading.
“I can be quiet. I promise.” You whispered with a pout, as your fingertips dance along his exposed chest. “What're friends for, Stevie? We need to help each other out.”
“Fuck,” he groans, slipping his hand into yours, turning without saying another word to grab the flashlight pulling you along. He wasn't going to be able to hold out, suddenly driven by the unwavering need in his pants, it seemed better to give in to your advances than try to fight them. Your sweet tone, seemingly needing him just as much as he needs you, he couldn't resist.
His mind was flooded with the vivid image of how your tight cunt would feel wrapped around his shaft, he quickly ascended the stairs looking back once holding his finger to his lips when he reached the door, easing it open. The rush of cooler air hit you as soon as the door opened for a small reprieve.
“I'm going to check out the windows, go down the hall. Quietly.” Nodding toward the right. “The first door on the left has a bed and no windows.”
You nod your understanding as he lets go of your hand, letting you go your separate ways. Tiptoeing down the hall, it was quiet, aside from the errant clap of thunder that echoed through the walls every thirty seconds or so.
The room had been exactly where he had explained. It seemed small, but the only light filtered in from the hall, illuminating only a portion of the bed. As your eyes adjusted, the bed came more into view, a little dusty but bigger than the cot downstairs.
You threw the quilt back, revealing surprisingly pristine sheets underneath. You decided to discard your muddy, lake soaked shoes as he came into view.
He had turned his light off, a silhouette of broad shoulders illuminated against a dusky red backdrop as another bolt of lightning split the sky outside. He stood there lingering in the doorway, eyes briefly running over your form. Your breath hitched in your throat drinking him in when he finally took a few steps forward.
He stood before you without saying a word, quickly finding your hips and wasting no time pulling you flush against him once more as you let out a small squeak of surprise bracing yourself against his chest.
“Steve, I—”
You were quickly cut off when he sealed his lips over yours. His intoxicating scent once again surrounded you as your brain began to shut off, driven only by your primal desires.
Your hand trailed down his abdomen, fingertips grazing his bandages finding the exposed skin low by his waistband. He shuddered at your soft, lingering touch. Going lower still, he hisses and pulls back from your kiss as you palm at his erection over his pants.
It felt like you were on autopilot. The only thought in the forefront of your mind was the overpowering need for relief. The need to be as close as possible.
He was taken by surprise when you grabbed the lapels of his vest and quickly pulled him around. The back of his knees hit the bed, as he fell rather ungracefully.
The springs groaned under the sudden pressure of his added weight as he let out a grunt, uttering a “shit,” under his breath.
You quickly straddled his legs, giving him no time for protest, crawling up and sitting flush on his bulge trying to be mindful of those raw wounds fresh on his sides.
A chorus of expletives left both of your lips the moment your hips grind down searching for friction with your hands pressing firmly to his chest holding him in place. Your aching clit gets some relief, the stiff denim pressing into you sliding down the rigid length of him and back up. A fresh wave of arousal flooding from your core adding to your already ruined panties.
In any other circumstances, you would feel embarrassed rutting up against your best friend like a wild animal in heat, but seeking out and taking what you needed was first and foremost.
You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.
“I could eat you up.” You whisper, lips grazing just below his ear, teeth nipping at his sensitive skin before your tongue rolls out, languidly licking at his jugular, his pulse thumping wildly against your muscle.
You whine, relishing the salty, earthy and coppery mixture as it settles along your taste buds, feeling him shutter beneath you taking a ragged breath only adding to your desire.
His hands find the plush of your hips, pulling you down to meet an upward thrust that has you leaning back up and moaning out without any regard for his earlier warnings and your promise.
His eyes shot up to you, barely illuminated in the dim light but you were a sight to see.
Your head is thrown back as if you were already in the throes of heady pleasure. Your mouth hung open slightly, another breathy wine escaping as you dragged your hips against his cock once more. Any and all of what was left of his will power was gone. His imagination ran rampant with the thought of you coming undone, falling apart only for him.
In one swift motion, he bucked his hips, gaining momentum to flip you over. Your back hits the mattress, making you gasp sharply as he seated himself between your parted thighs.
Your eyes go wide with surprise when his hand quickly shoots to your mouth, his large palm stifling your sounds.
Leaning further into your space, his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he spoke.
“I'm going to give you what you want but you've got to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”
You nod, fisting the vest in your hands, letting out a small whimper as he slowly took his hand away.
“Use your words, honey.” He scolded.
“Yes, I– I can be quiet.” You breathed out, beginning to feel faint.
“Good girl.” He purred, his words sending your mind into overdrive.
You pawed at his chest, pushing the denim at his shoulders. He sat up, finally pulling it free from his body and tossing it across the room. Your hands roam across the expanse of his chest and broad shoulders.
He reached the hem of your shirt, fingers skirting up your tummy, cool fingertips sending goosebumps across your flesh. You nodded as his eyes caught yours before he quickly pulled it over your head.
He sucked in a sharp breath, watching intently as your chest rose, pushing your breasts against the cups of your bra with each steady inhale, threatening to spill out all on their own before you reached behind, deftly unclasping it and lifting it away.
“Fuck, honey.” His eyes go dark, one of his large hands immediately finding its way to your soft skin. His calloused palm engulfing you as he kneads timidly, at first. You keen into his touch, arching upward, searching for more.
His mouth meets your pert nipple on the other side, swirling his tongue and roughly squeezing the breast under his palm. He nips at the taut bud as if testing the waters, teeth grazing before applying more pressure and immediately soothing the mild sting, laving the wet muscle back across your skin.
To keep from crying out, you bite down on your lip, whimpering as his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure down your body, shooting straight to your core.
He pulls off of you with an audible pop, eyes darting to your face when he feels you trying to push his pants down.
“Please, Steve. I need you! I can't wait.” You hiss out, still trying to maintain a whisper but the longer this keeps getting drawn out the more desperate you become, aching to be filled. An ache that was growing so strong it was boarding on painful.
Dipping your way past his waistband just a moment later, he shudders when your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft, wrapping your hand around his girthy cock.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his own sounds as you stroke up and back down at an agonizingly slow pace.
Your thumb finds his head, a steady stream of precum already leaking from the tip, swirling your digit in the mess was almost too much as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.
Your mouth fell agape with a silent gasp, a cry caught in your throat as your other hand flew to the back of his head, fingers digging into his locks and tugging harshly. He quickly unhinges his jaw, peppering kisses where his teeth had just been.
“M’sorry,” he mumbles out, pulling back and swatting your hands away from his pants as he sits up.
Your thighs go slack, as he blindly pops the button on your jeans, pulling the zipper down harshly, digging into the denim waistband before you lift your hips aiding in him hastily tugging them and your panties down your legs.
He tosses them somewhere behind him, before standing up and shedding his own pants and boxers, letting them unceremoniously pool at his feet.
Your eyes quickly rove over as much of his naked body as the dim lighting would allow, licking your lips. His cock was standing at full attention, curved slightly upward as he wrapped his own hand around it, pumping it lightly a few times.
His knees find the mattress, planting his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart to accommodate his frame.
Pausing a moment to appreciate the site before him, his fingertips trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to where you yearn for him the most. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he tightened his grip and pulled you toward him.
“Steve,” you plead, as he ghosts over your slick lips, his thumb and forefinger spread you apart with a sticky release before he finally presses his thumb pad down onto your puffy clit making your hips buck up.
Sensing your urgent need, his finger begins to tease your aching hole, your arousal drips out, as he finally dips in, your hips rising up in time to push his digit further in.
Your head falls back into the pillow, the hand at your hip pushes you flush against the mattress holding you there as he pumps in and out of your tight pussy, quickly adding a second finger to help stretch you out.
“I can smell your needy cunt.” He hisses, practically salivating. Both of your pheromones were in overdrive, your scent wafting through the air like honey, luring him in. A feast begging to be devoured. “I bet you taste just as sweet.”
His words mixed with his current ministrations left you teetering on the edge, his digits stroke up, finding that sweet spot along your frontal wall and just when you were about to fall apart, it suddenly disappeared. Feeling as though it was subdued by some unseen force, leaving you whimpering and unsatisfied, as tears spring to your eyes in frustration.
“Steve, I— it's not working, I need more.” You huff out. It was then you noticed he was fisting his cock, searching for his own release alongside you.
“Fuck, yeah, okay.” He let out a little breathless. “It's not working f’me either.”
You immediately mourn the loss as his fingers slip from you before he promptly shoves them past his lips, humming around the taste, the potent elixir bursting on contact with his taste buds flooding his senses, igniting his insatiable hunger even further.
“Jesus Christ, I fuckin’ knew it.” His pupils dilate, high on the taste of you, a drug he suddenly realized he'll never be able to fully detox from.
He grips the base of his cock with one hand, leaning over and lining himself up with your soaked entrance, pressing the tip in, feeling your gummy walls start to mold around him, as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.
“Please.” It was a breathy thing, as your muscles instinctually constricted around the welcome intrusion.
He groans, unable to hold himself back any further, snapping his hips and burying himself in one fluid motion. Your pussy gives little resistance between how wet you are and the unrelenting desire to be completely filled.
“Oh God!” Biting back another loud moan being ripped from your chest, digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood this time, as his thick cock splits you open.
There was a slight burn, as he sat snugly inside your tight channel that quickly gave way to overwhelming pleasure when he pulled back, withdrawing almost completely leaving just his leaking tip before plunging back in, somehow feeling deeper than before.
You muffle your cries the best you can, as he begins to set a near brutal pace. Every thrust pulling little ah, ah, ahs past your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the fat of his ass pushing him further into you.
He hisses and stills when your legs gripping a little too tight, pull his focus from fucking you to the searing pain at his sides. The wounds had been forgotten from the pure ecstasy he was feeling.
“Shit, I'm sorry.” It was enough to knock you from your lust fueled haze momentarily as he pulled out.
“Flip over.” He grunts.
“Wha—” A sharp smack to the side of your thigh has the words dying on your tongue with a gasp.
“Flip. Over.” Repeating himself a little more forcefully. The soft boy next door being replaced with a rougher version, that suddenly had your pussy clenching around nothing at his harsh demeanor.
You rolled onto your stomach, as his hands came to grip your hips with a bruising force, pulling your ass up.
He wastes no time shoving his throbbing length back between your glistening lips, bumping your clit once before slowly guiding his ruddy tip past your entrance, as your cunt flutters around him practically sucking him in.
He's trying to contain his grunts to a minimum, when your noises start to fill the air he brings his palm down hard against your ass, making you jerk away, burying your face in the sheets below with a whine.
“Giving you exactly what you want, and you still can't keep that pretty mouth shut?” He hisses, grinding his hips slowly, to properly scold you. “Feels too good, huh, honey?”
You merely mewl and nod, before another smack echoes around the room, his palm smoothing soothingly over your reddened cheek.
“I asked you a question, honey.” His voice is lazy, dripping sugary sweet condescension.
“Yes, Steve, mmph— it— you feel so, so good.” Finally able to mumble out a coherent sentence.
He smirks, letting a hand slide down the length of your spine, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head before hauling you up, back flush against his sweaty chest.
Winding his arm around your midsection, the other detangles from your hair to cover your mouth as he places a soft kiss to your temple before his hips snap harshly, the new angle making you cry out, but it's muffled with his palm securely placed over your lips.
“Gotta be quiet, remember honey?” He huffs, breath hot against your neck, unrelenting in his conquest to see your demise.
You grip his forearm, nails digging crescents into his skin, hanging on for dear life. Each outward stroke and upward thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your eyes roll back, suddenly careening you toward the edge of oblivion.
His hand helps stifle your moans, blunt fingertips digging into the apple of your cheek, but you can't help the involuntary sounds that continue to slip out.
“Fuck, y—you feel good.” He stutters out, right in your ear. “Pussy feels like it was made f’me. Mmmm. Gripping me so fuckin' tight.”
The hand around your waist starts drifting south, coming to caress your mound momentarily before delving between your folds finding your puffy, neglected clit with expert ease, drawing swift circles against you causing your cunt to constrict around him sending another wave of arousal flooding out, soaking his balls and dripping down your thighs.
“That's it, honey. I promise we'll get there this time.” His cocky demeanor was doing it for you. You'd never seen this side of Steve, taking control, fucking you better than anyone ever had.
“You're going to cum on my cock while I stuff this cunt full.” You whined out at his words, high pitched against his palm. “That's what you want, huh? Fill you up and make it stick? F—fuck I think I'm close.”
You try to nod, letting him know you were too.
The heat that had been simmering for the last hour in your abdomen was finally reaching a boiling point. Pressure was building, as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting at just the right angle.
Your grip on his forearm tightened, fingernails beginning to draw blood, but he didn't show any signs of distress, never ceasing his movements solely focused on you and the way you felt around him.
You close your eyes, as the flames begin to lick up your spine, spreading further and growing hotter. It was an all-consuming pleasure, your cunt begging for release, begging for his release.
Whatever this pollen had done to the both of you, it was clear it had a driving force with one thing in mind. Procreation. Unsatisfied and unsatiated until you were bursting full of his life giving fluid.
You're finally able to pry his hand away from you to let out one more breathy plea.
“Cum in me, Steve. I— I can't cum, I need you.” Your voice was low and raspy, but he heard you loud and clear.
He fully removed his hand, suddenly pushing you forward. Too weak to fight, your body fell onto the mattress with a small groan as he quickly withdrew himself and manhandled you around to lay on your back.
No matter what this pollen had done to him. He was still Steve deep down and he could never imagine not looking at your beautiful face as you fell apart for the first time. All for him.
He slips off the bed momentarily, picking something up from the floor before crawling back between your legs.
“I'm sorry, honey. You can't stay quiet.” He whispers.
“Wh—,” your question was cut off when he stuffs your filthy panties past your lips for a makeshift gag, kissing your forehead before grabbing the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half.
His palms push you down and hold your thighs open for him as he ruts his cock up through your folds, the tip grazing your clit before catching at your entrance. His head tips down to watch himself slowly disappear into your tight heat.
Your head flies back, feeling every ridge and vein upon his deliberate reentrance, fisting the sheets beneath you as muffled cries echo across the room. He pauses to take delight in the way your face is screwed up with pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt, suddenly wishing he could hear all the pretty sounds you were making unhindered.
He starts to move again, eyes drifting back down to where the two of you connected to watch himself plunge in and out of your soaked pussy, seemingly mesmerized by the way your greedy hole takes him so well but he tears his eyes away when he hears a pained whimper from you, pausing to search your face.
Your eyes were closed, tears flowing down the side of your face, feeling anything but pain as you looked up at him, eyes glazed over, begging him to continue.
Suddenly twitching at the thought of his impending release, he grinds his hips back into yours. The wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit just right, wrenching another moan from you as you nod at him to keep going.
He starts to thrust again but can tell he's close as his balls begin to draw up, and lower stomach tightens. Skin to skin doesn't seem to be enough when there's a sudden overwhelming need to be closer. He wants to crawl under your skin and embed himself there.
He releases the hold on your legs, letting them ease back to the bed as he drapes himself over you, caging you in. The hair on his chest grazes your nipples with each thrust only adding to your sensations as your hands find purchase on his back.
Holding himself up on one elbow his palm finds your breast, pressing and kneading before his mouth finds the other, sucking a little harshly leaving the top of your chest with a dark reminder as your body arches upward, craving more. His tongue moves over your pebbled nipple before he latches on.
It suddenly feels like he's everywhere all at once. Hands roaming, mouth hot as his cock continues to carve its way into your guts.
He pops off momentarily, sensing a shift in you because he can feel it too.
“You gonna cum with me, honey?” You look up into his eyes, a black abyss. The familiar hazel irises are nowhere to be found. Your best friend now hell bent on ruining you for any other man.
You nod, with a muffled “mmhmm” hoping to God you can finally crest over the precipice.
“Wrap your legs around me.” He hums, hiking your thigh up his hip. Your brows marry with confusion because of the day's earlier blunder.
“It's ok.” He soothes your worry away, large hand gripping your ass as he continues to grind down.
You do as he says, wrapping them around his torso, locking your ankles at the base of his spine. He winces only once before focusing all his concentration on pumping in and out, in and out. Making sure to tilt his pelvis on the upward thrust, simultaneously stimulating that spot deep within you and brushing your clit.
This was it. Fading embers reignited as flames slowly fanned across your lower abdomen. Your brain is all but mush, yearning for a release that only he can provide.
“I'm close.” He hisses out with a grunt, burying his head into your neck. His breath fans hot across you as he starts to whine and mutter. “M’gonna fill this pussy full. F–fuck my goddamn load so far into you. Mmpmh, is that– that’s what you want?”
A few more erratic thrusts before he pushes in so deep that his head is kissing the crown of your cervix. Your walls clamp down around him, holding him in place before his cock twitches and begins to spurt his release into your greedy womb.
Your body reacts suddenly, hot white heat floods your core with the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced. Everything around you seems to fade, as a blinding white light bursts behind your eyelids. Your cunt spasms around him, milking everything he had to give, he groans almost painfully but the sound seems so far away. If you weren't lying underneath him you would have sworn you could float away.
Your chests heave against one another as his body goes limp, crushing you in the best possible way. The lust fueled haze was extinguished with your release, leaving you tired and spent.
His softening dick kicks up a few more times making you whimper as your legs and arms fall away from him, utterly and completely exhausted.
You're pulled out of your blissful afterglow when he pulls your panties from your mouth. Humming as you close your mouth, dry and parched, smacking your lips together softly.
You still had your eyes closed, as his hand comes tp to caress your jaw, thumb running tenderly across the apple of your cheek as you both came down from your highs.
“You ok?” He asked timidly, as you nod with a “mmhmm.”
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” The sweet, caring best friend returning to his senses, as you reply a low “no.”
“Good.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.
“Steve?” Managing to croak out, voice hoarse and rough.
“Hmmnh?” He manages, eyes fixated where the two of you were still connected, finally pulling his softening cock free, your mixed fluids flooding from your spent hole. He had the urge to shove it back in, but stopped himself.
“I was going to jump in first,” you whispered out, as his head shot up to look at you. You were completely dazed, on the verge of sleep.
“What?” He asked, easing himself back, eyes roving over your body littered with bruises and bitemarks. Proof that he hadn't experienced some sort of upside down drug induced hallucination.
“The lake.” You hummed. “Robin stopped me.” Yawning before continuing. “I would've jumped in first.”
“Yeah?” He asks, smiling softly to himself, easing beside you, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. Spending a few more minutes tangled up in you, before the weight of reality would inevitably come crashing back down.
“Mmhmm. I'd go anywhere with you.” You confess, wrapping your arms around his middle as he pulls you into his chest. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's been in love with you for years. He would've jumped in head first if the tables were turned, he just didn't want anything to happen to you.
“I know, honey. I'd—,” a loud banging at the front door startling you both from your daydream, as he rose up ready for anything.
He hurried to get his clothes back on, throwing your bra and shirt up to you as he walked out into the hall leaving you to get dressed.
He could hear muffled voices behind the door. Your friends had circled back to find you.
Everyone stopped talking as soon as he threw open the door looking a little worse for wear.
“Oh thank God!” Robin was the first to speak, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?”
“We're fine Rob,” Stepping back and letting them enter the small space, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The bats chased us here, stuck around a while but we're fine.”
They were all chatting when you finally walked into the room clearing your throat as everyone whipped their heads around, eyes all going a little wide at your appearance.
Robin's gaze flitted your neck, as she sent you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows causing you to pull the collar of your shirt over the exposed skin as your cheeks heated.
“Seriously?!” She smacked Steve's arm, looking wide eyed back to him. “Down here? I mean, it's about time. You've only been dying to confess your feelings for wh—”
“Robin!” He hissed out, cutting off her rambling. “Stop!”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, looking over to your confused expression.
“Can uh, you guys give us a minute?” He asked, hands falling to his hips, as they all looked between each other before heading back out the door. Robin mouthed a “sorry” your way, shutting the door behind her.
“Feelings, huh?” Toeing at a small rock on the floor instead of meeting his gaze.
“Fuck. Well, yeah. It's you. How could I not?” He sighed. “But, we seriously don't ever have to talk about this again. Pretend it never happened and feelings aside, you're still my best friend.”
“What if I don't want to forget?” You bit the inside of your lip as your mouth curled into a shy grin. “And…” Taking a step toward him. “What if I told you I had feelings for you too?”
“Yeah?” He asked, reaching out to haul you in close, as you took another step.
“Yeah.” Your hands taking hold of Eddie's vest, curling into his chest. “And, once we get out of here, maybe we can try all of this again?” His face lit up, as you smiled at him. “Without the raging, horny sex pollen?”
You both huffed a laugh, relaxing into each other.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He nods, excitement blooming in his chest.
“C’mon handsome, let's get out of here.” Your hand found his, sending him a small giggle as you pulled him toward the door to rejoin your friends.
Despite the dismal cloud looming above he had a feeling that everything would work out this time.
Tagging a few mooties that might be interested (and please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!): @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @bunnyhargrove @xxbimbobunnyxx
And also: @crybabyddl (since you asked!) 🙂
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fanaticsnail · 6 months ago
Text
I Don't Want To Hurt You
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here
Word count: 3,900+
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Synopsis: You have been married to Charlotte Katakuri for five years, and not once has he engaged with you intimately. You had not even seen his face without the shroud of fur atop it. In desperation for grandchildren from the minister of flour, his mother drugs him with a powerful aphrodesiac. The only cure is to give in to his desires and finally claim you as his spouse.
Warnings: Katakuri x f!reader, husband x wife, some gendered terms used, dub con, pollen trope, forced to engage in intimacy, mutual pining, interfering mother in law, NSFW, 18+, MDNI, Katakuri loves you, he doesn't want to hurt you, size difference, swearing, mentions of pregnancy.
Notes: Getting this out of my head and added him to the pollen list. He needed it, I think.
Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sunnyferr
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The desperation and neediness in his rough huffs and pants of breath were too much for him to bear. His body gave in, finally feeling the incessant need to release his steely cock from the confines of his leather pants the moment he stepped into the safety of his private room. Unbuckling his belt, his pants pooled at his ankles and his right hand immediately flew to his cock. 
He pulled his furred covering further up his face to muffle the wanton moans and feral growls from escaping his lips and painting the atmosphere with his desires. Gripping his cock in a vice-like fist, he began to piston his hand and brace his back against the wall behind him. The need for relief in release overcame him, and he chased his high harder and faster in his palm. 
Charlotte Katakuri knew his mother wanted grandchildren from him. She married him off to the first willing bride the moment they came of age. He had been with you for almost five years now, and he found you to be the most beautiful creature he had ever set his eyes on. A perfect match for him, and truly the best partner he could ever find in another. 
Although he was attracted to you physically, he never once allowed his body to enter yours due to the incredibly large size difference between you. As he thought of you romantically and dotingly, he never once in all that time thought you ever felt the same way for him. 
The union between the two of you remained unconsummated, much to the chagrin of his interfering mother. She consistently ordered him to get you pregnant, to make her more hulking crewmembers and swell her family to a larger number. But he never did. He outright refused. 
He couldn’t do that to you.
You were intelligent, charismatic, kind, and innocent compared to him. He had to claw tooth and nail for the respect he now had, his bestial face was the cause of fear for so many. He was yet to display his lips and teeth to you in the assumption you may feel similar to the others he had allowed to view him prior. He was a beast, and he refused to permit you to see him as such.
Katakuri clapped his hand over the shroud and jammed the material into his lips as a makeshift gag to prevent the muffled moans from expelling themselves further. His hips began to rut into his palm as he stood with his back against the locked door. He clamped his eyes tightly shut, feeling his approach towards ecstasy slowly slipping from his sight the moment he tasted it on the tip of his tongue. 
He whined, desperately chasing it harder and faster in bucking his hips into his fist. “No, no, no, no,” his muffled whisper desperately panted. His breathing hitched, his brows furrowing as his pearlescent precum was the only spill he felt in a twitch against his fingers. 
“Why-...?” He stuttered, his eyes reopening and searching for a rhyme or reason he couldn't spill his seed into his hand like the other times he felt these urges come over him. “Why can't I-...?” Eyes trailing down to his fur scarf and noticing a soft sheen of the finest dust he had ever seen coating the strands of hair. 
He roared in rage, immediately thrusting the material away from his lips across the room with a great force. He gnashed his teeth, drool beginning to coat his lips with the fury he felt at this cruel invasion of his privacy. 
Charlotte Linlin had finally done it. She had crossed that boundary to force him to disrespect and ravage his spouse. This was the only cure for this disgusting invasion of his senses, now encumbered by dust from the pollen aphrodisiac. His need to respect you, and ensure you had no reason to fear him, was far greater than these urges he felt now, and he was certain he could be rid of it without aid. 
His mother had done something similar to her lovers in the past, drugging them so they would be desperate to perform the task of making Katakuri an army of full blooded and half siblings. He never thought she would turn this on her own son, an oversight he was making up for now.
He needed to be rid of it without assistance. He didn't want to hurt you, frighten you, or cause you harm with his larger body tearing apart your smaller one. His desperation came out in the form of a suppressed, needy roar as he felt his cock throb in his hand. 
“Not like this,” he whispered, bracing himself against the door by clawing the panels. He stumbled towards the ensuite bathroom, shaking hand continuing to brace himself against each surface as he continued to thrust his fist firmly down his veiny shaft and stampede his release towards finality. 
“I can't do this to you,” he whimpered, his hand finding the copper taps and turning on the liquid to fill the bath. “I won't do this to you.” He immediately stepped into the bath, his pupils remaining fully dilated and influenced by the dust within his respiratory system and bloodstream. 
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Sitting beside your sister in law, you lulled your head to the side and arched your brows up at the rows of tiles spaced out in front of you. Nine by four, and face down on the doilies margining the tea table, you rolled two dice to determine who gathers the spare tile to begin your little game. 
“I got a four,” you shrug, looking at Brûlée's dice. “Oh, you win with that five!” you smile at her, offering her the single, vacant tile to begin the mahjong game. She returned your smile, selecting a random starting point and sliding down the carved tiles. 
As your game continued, you all managed to get several numbers you needed from one to nine. The sheer number of times you played this game with Brûlée made for speed in completion. She was as fast as you, both swapping numbers and tiles as you needed it to order them. 
After you managed to complete the game for the umpteenth time today, she offered you her large hand to shake in mutual celebration of winning your games. Wrapping your fingers around her index finger and giving it a soft shake, she offered you a genuine smile and a curious gaze. 
“What's that look for, my favorite sister in law?” you asked her, your own curiosity marking your features. She sucked her lips in, darting her eyes between yours and silently assessing you before speaking. 
“I have a confession to make, my beautiful sister in law,” she muttered in her cackling cadence. You sat back in your seat and silently examined her posture in response with a curious glance. 
“I'm not a priest,” you shrug with a soft smile, “There's no need to confess anything to me.” She laughs in response, shaking her head and beginning to pack up your joint games into a hessian bag. 
She gulped back a sheepish mouthful of saliva before turning her attention back to you. Her temples were beading with soft droplets of nervous sweat, her lips chapped and injured from how hard she was biting on them, and her eyes darting between yours as she asked her question. 
“Are you in love with my brother?” she asked you with a subtle underlying question masked beneath her words. You sighed, closing your eyes as you focussed on finding the right words to respond. 
“I have been married to your brother for over five years,” you nodded with your eyes reopening, looking at the table ahead and sighing out further, “I want-...” you look up into her eyes and hold nothing but truth and honesty in your expression, “...I want nothing more than to love him. I want him to love me.” You shake your head, looking back to the floor and kicking your toes.
“Your mother has been pestering me, insistent that we make her grandchildren immediately, but,” you suck in a lengthy, shaken breath and look up at Brûlée, “We have yet to share a single touch, let alone a night together in unity. He thinks he’ll break me, I’m sure.” Brûlée offers you a soft smile, reaching forward one of her larger hands and grimacing immediately thereafter.
“Ah, that’s where my confession comes in,” she cringes, looking at where her hand descended upon your shoulder, “My mother has taken matters into her own hands to give him another push. She, uh…” Brûlée gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before admitting to you the seriousness of the situation, “...She drugged him.”
“She what?” you ask, flinching away from your sister in law and stare at her with eyes wide in shock.
“She laced his shroud with an aphrodisiac, and a potent one at that,” she confessed with a soft nod, “As you are my favorite sister in law, I thought it was only fair to warn you of the severity of what’s waiting for you when you return to your marriage suite.” 
Your blood ran cold, mind racing with the remainder of the severity in circumstances awaiting you beyond the door. Still hearing the echo in Brûlée’s voice, you reached for the doorknob with a shaky hand and quivering lip.
“He’s going to be unhinged, consumed with lust,” her voice rang in your mind, “He will likely attempt to ravish you as soon as he sees you, lacking any semblance of restraint or self-control.” You made a mental note to thank Brûlée later for her honesty, but your mind remained swirling with the knowledge that your husband is likely going to hurt you. 
“When you see his face,” your hand turned the doorknob, slowly creaking the door open inwards to your joint suite, “Try not to scream. He-... He’s self-conscious about his mouth.” You slowly stepped into the room, preparing yourself to be immediately met with your husband’s sizable hands and gripped tightly. 
Yet nothing happened.
Nothing but a soft hummed whimper from beyond the bathroom door was met with you as you slowly made your way in. Water splashing in rhythmic bursts and a rumble of a frantic, stifled roar was muffled between the clamped jaw of the man you had come to love. 
The bathroom door was left slightly ajar, the steam from the bath was exiting the space in a soft puff. Your curiosity was tingling at the corners of your mind and shooting down your spine. 
“The only way he can be cured is by-...” you heard Brûlée’s choked confession in your mind, your body urging you to witness what was behind the door. Offering a simple knock, a barked growl came in the form of a rumbled exhale in response. 
“Leave,” he spat, the splashing never ceasing and his pants growing more desperate, “Leave me. I-I can-... ngghmm-... I can handle it.” You refused to heed his command, pushing past the door and witnessing the majesty of your seventeen foot husband sitting in the golden spa in the bathroom.
His brow was creased, his eyes scrunched shut in concentration, his lips parted and huffing out pants of pleasure, and his fist thrusting beneath the murky water and shaking the suds from his forearm with each crude motion. A blush immediately rose to your cheeks as you continued watching him from your position in the doorway. 
As you began to move closer, his eyes opened and his feral stare snapped over to you. Jaw opening and closing, his pupils dilating to eclipse that chocolate-brown hue you adored so much, and his hips rocking to meet his arm beneath the water. 
“Please leave,” he begged, imploring you to leave the room for your own safety with wide eyes, “I can’t do this to you. I won’t.” He whimpered, his jaw protruding as he bit back his wanton desire to fill you with his girthy cock. 
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. His jaw began to shake and quiver, pointed teeth chattering as he desperately bit at his lips to stifle his desperation. You hesitated slightly, rocking on your feet before hardening your resolve.
“...Giving in,” Brûlée’s voice echoed in your mind. Looking down at your husband in the soapy bathtub, you were overcome with admiration and love. There was nothing to fear in his lips, reflecting on Brûlée’s earlier sentiment of warning. He was perfect to you, and five years of longing finally began to catch up with you. 
Stepping closer still, he flinched away with eyes wide and somberly pleading for you to not tempt him further. He was large, and you were of average standing and stature for a person of your size. In fear of harming you, he reached his hand down onto his thigh and dug his nails into the flesh while pumping his cock. 
“You need to give in,” you offer him with a calmness to satiate the beastly form of your husband, “Give in to me.” 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled at you, scrunching his eyes shut in a bid to ignore what his body was so desperately screaming at him to enact. Shaking your head, you pressed on in your journey over to him.
“I want you to,” You drew yourself closer still, rolling the straps of your dress over your shoulders and flinging it to the side. Your lingerie was the next to pool at your feet, leaving you bare as you began to step into the water. 
Without further warning, Charlotte Katakuri thrust himself forward and caged his head between your thighs. You shrieked in shock as he held your lower back firmly within a single, hot hand while his other busied itself against his steely shaft. He leaned back against the wall of the spa and took your body with him on his descent. 
Parting his lips and releasing his tongue from his mouth, he began lapping at your glistening core with gentle moans and whimpers escaping from his chest in a desperate pant. His tongue shot tingles up your spine with each crude lap.
The length and width of his tongue was far greater than your slit, his organ reaching all of the places that had your toes curling at once. He rocked your hips against his lengthy tongue, groaning as your pussy began to drip onto his salivating organ with your unbridled lust depicted in your slick arousal.
Your hands shot down to his plum-colored hair and gripped him as you felt the call of ecstasy approaching almost immediately from his skilled ministrations. Mewls and whimpers flinging into the air, your shock never ceases and only grows as the sparks of release fizz within your core.
“Oh-... f-fuck-... I’m gonna-...” you began, failing to find the words as Katakuri growled against your contracting pussy. The vibrations fog your mind as your body ignites in tingling ecstasy. White flashes behind your eyes as your jaw falls slack in reaction to the bliss. 
Katakuri never ceases grinding you down against his open mouth, his tongue greedily lapping at you and prolonging your orgasm to shaky overstimulation. You desperately attempt to pull his face away, but he shakes his head with a barking growl and continues on bullying you with his mouth. 
Your toes tingle, legs shaking as you use all your strength to attempt to draw his head away from your pussy to no avail. You whimper and whine, beginning to sob as he greedily laps at your pussy: gyrating your hips in a harsh rock and thighs grinding against his cheeks. He never tore his eyes away from you, the feral beast lurking beneath his skin preventing him from being the chivalrous and doting partner you once knew.
He had you in his clutches, and there was no way he was going to give up this opportunity to bring you pleasure. His carnal desires had his eyes rolling in his head as he continued to feel the rapid flutter of your walls and twitch of your overstimulated clit warning him of your secondary wave of bliss. 
“Ka-... Katakuri, s-stop,” you whined, your knees squeezed his larger head between your thighs and you attempted to wriggle away from his greedy tongue, “Katakuri, I-I’m gonna c-cum again!” The intensity of the waves you were being ushered through heightened as a gush of your arousal flooded Katakuri’s tongue and mouth. 
Another explosion of ecstasy was paved by the skilled lulling and lapping of Katakuri’s lips and tongue. The ribbed indents of his teeth rolling against your fluttering walls as you rode his face felt unlike anything you had experienced with another. He took your fluttering walls contracting around nothing as consent to enter you with it, your heat coaxing and beckoning him to finally give in to his urges.
Finally lifting you from his head, he breathily panted as he opened and closed his tingling jaw. Rolling his tongue over his teeth, he sampled the arousal of your pussy on his palate and hummed in response. Lowering you into the water, you felt the blunt tip of his larger cock brush with your slit. The slickened release of two orgasms was still not enough to ease his cock inside your smaller body. 
“Are you cer-... f-fuck-... Certain you want to do this?” he gritted his teeth in a steely clamp and hissed at you, lining his cock up with you by circling it with his fist beneath the water. “I don’t want to do this to you. Not like this.” He slowly inched you further onto his cock, your body stretching to accommodate his width. The sting around your walls prompted you to wince, but you refused to deny him. 
“I want you to,” you softened your face, attempting to relax your body, “I want you.” Your confession had Katakuri’s eyes hanging half-lidded and his teeth chattering. 
“I’ve-...” he groaned, hissing out your name as he felt the first twitch of your body finally widen enough for his broad tip to enter you, “...I've wanted you the moment I first saw you. The moment you agreed to this union.” He whimpered, bringing his other hand up to cradle your shoulders and thumb soft, soothing circles into your skin. 
A soft sniffle fell from your nose in reaction to his confession, both of you silently cursing your mother in law for dousing him like this with the aphrodisiac. Katakuri finally felt your body stretch enough to completely take his aching knob within you, your body claiming the ribbed edge within your walls. He huffed out his gratitude, almost immediately spilling over his release the moment he felt the warmth of your heat take him in. 
“It will all be over soon,” Katakuri confessed to you with a somber expression on his face, “Em-... fuck-... Embarrassingly soon.” You gently reached up and caressed his cheeks in your hands. Darting your eyes between his, your eyes swelled with emotion as he sunk more of himself into you. 
“There is-... ah-... nothing to be embarrassed about, my love,” you whimpered, your brows furrowing as you took more of him into you. Only managing to sink a third of his cock within you, he slowly raised you up with one hand before sinking you back down. You had never felt more full in your life, your body stuffed beyond your maximum capacity by his quivering shaft. 
“I-I’m g-gonna cum,” he confessed in a husky growl, sleeving as much of himself within you as you could take. “I-I’m cumming. I’m-...hhah-... I’m cumming.” His motions became more feral, more beastly as he chased his high in your body. You winced while mewling a few cries, feeling his blunt tip almost break past the barrier of your cervix and breach your womb. 
To stifle your cry, you lunged forward and claimed his lips in a desperate and searing kiss. His eyes grow wide in shock, immediately exploding his sticky release deep within your body beneath the bathwater. Ribbons of his pearlescent release spurted from his small slit and hit you with such force internally it left you breathless. 
He removed his hand from your shoulder, joining the other on your hips and bucked up into you. Focussing on your lips, he closed his eyes and groaned his relief into your lips. Coasting through the waves of ecstasy, he continued a staggered staccato of rhythmic bucks in shallow thrusts. 
The slosh of water spilled over the sides of the bath and splashed onto the floor around you. You rotated your chin, mouthing at his lips and attempting to relay onto him the emotions you had suppressed for so long. With his cock still sheathed within you, he focussed entirely on your lips with his own. 
His kiss was soft and gentle, his teeth unintentionally grazing your skin with each soft turn and tip of his lips. As you attempted to withdraw from his lips, he chased you and groaned at the absence. 
“One more,” he mumbled, his chest rising from the water and lips falling against yours, “Just one more.” You giggled against his lips, granting him a lengthier and more desperate kiss. The force of your faces colliding had your nose scrunch affectionately against his own. His lips smiled against you, humming dopily and breathily against your lips. 
Twin smiles reflected in each other’s lips, finally feeling the unity between you both as spouses. He slowly retracted his cock from your walls, continuing to move his lips dotingly against your own in an apologetic oscillation. You whined into his lips, your heart jumping to your chest with how much you truly loved him.
You attempted to pull away from his lips to gaze into your lover’s face, only for him to purr a soft growl of disapproval from the partition once more. He pecked your lips with a soft kiss to stamp you with his affection before allowing you to finally part from him.
He stroked your hair, his eyelids dancing with a soft flutter of his eyelashes. His expression was a combination of true sorrow and repentance. Feeling the remnants of the pollen finally flee from his system and have his true nature return to him had his regrets showcased on his features.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered carefully, “Not like that. I could’ve broken you, or something more sinister.” He tilted his chin away and broke his eye contact from your face.
“But you didn’t,” you whisper, collecting his cheek in your palm and gently coaxing his face back to meet yours. He turns his head and gazes apologetically into your eyes and pressed his lips to your palm.
“Forgive me,” he asked in a voice just above a whisper, closing his eyes and leaning forward to brush his forehead with yours. You meet his head and close your own eyes shut in response. 
“There is nothing to forgive, my love,” you whisper in a similar cadence before quirking up your eyebrow at him, “Unless what you’re apologizing for is not claiming me sooner,” you pull away and smirk at him with a mischievous grin, “In which case, I don’t think I can forgive you for that.” Katakuri froze, his body tingling at your confession.
“Then please tell me what I can do to make up for my maltreatment of your needs,” he smiled with half-lidded lashes and leaned up in your embrace, “I am desperate to know,” You leaned down, your chest now lining up with his chin from your position on his lap, while your eyes held more sultry mischief within.
“I can think of a few things,” you whisper affectionately down at him, “But I think I might need a little time to recover before we begin your apology from being properly received.” A soft rumble reverberated in Katakuri’s chest, swelling into a growl in his smile. 
“I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you,” he whispered in response before collecting your lips beneath his in another soft kiss.
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ahamad16 · 1 year ago
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Essential Tips for Ensuring Gunite Pool Safety
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The allure of a gunite pool is undeniable – a sparkling oasis that invites relaxation and recreation. Yet, amidst the excitement, safety remains paramount. In this comprehensive guide, we explore the essential safety measures every gunite pool owner should prioritize. From smart pool design to water safety and chemical management, we've got you covered. Plus, we'll also touch on the possibility of integrating a spa with your existing gunite pool, ensuring safety is at the forefront of your aquatic oasis.
Designing for Safety: Layout and Pool Features
Proper Pool Fencing
Safety begins with a well-constructed pool fence that complies with local regulations. Ensuring the right height, secure gate mechanisms, and durable materials prevents unauthorized access to the pool area.
Pool Covers and Alarms
When the pool is not in use, safety covers provide an additional layer of protection. Installing pool alarms alerts you to any unauthorized entry, ensuring immediate attention.
Clear Line of Sight
Maintain an unobstructed view of the pool from your home. Removing obstacles and strategically placing furniture enhances supervision and minimizes the risk of accidents.
Prioritizing Water Safety
Supervision and Adult Presence
Never underestimate the importance of adult supervision when the pool is in use. Designate a responsible "Water Watcher" to keep a close eye on swimmers and ensure a safe experience.
Swimming Lessons and Education
Enroll family members, especially children, in swimming lessons. Educate pool users about basic water safety rules, including the importance of not running near the pool and refraining from diving in shallow areas.
Flotation Devices and Rescue Equipment
Keep life jackets and suitable flotation devices easily accessible. Place rescue equipment like life hooks and poles near the pool to facilitate immediate action if needed.
Preventing Slips, Trips, and Falls
Non-Slip Decking
Choose non-slip materials for your pool deck to minimize the risk of slips and falls, especially when the deck is wet. A secure walking surface prevents accidents.
Proper Lighting
Adequate lighting around the pool area enhances night-time visibility and ensures swimmers can see potential hazards, edges, and changes in depth.
Ensuring Chemical Safety and Water Quality
Secure Chemical Storage
Store pool chemicals in a locked area, out of reach of children and pets. Proper storage prevents accidental exposure and potential chemical reactions.
Water Chemistry Management
Regularly test and balance water chemistry to prevent skin and eye irritations. Well-maintained water quality ensures a safe and enjoyable swimming experience.
First Aid and Emergency Preparedness
CPR and First Aid Training
Invest in CPR and first aid training to be prepared for emergencies. Having these skills empowers you to respond effectively and provide immediate assistance if necessary.
Posting Emergency Numbers
Display local emergency numbers near the pool area where they are easily visible. Ensure all family members and guests know how to access emergency assistance.
Educating Children and Guests
Establishing Pool Rules
Set clear pool rules for everyone's safety. Communicate these rules to children and guests, emphasizing the importance of following them at all times.
Educating Guests about Pool Safety
Inform guests about safety measures and expectations before they use the pool. This ensures that everyone is aware of the rules and protocols in place.
Regular Maintenance and Inspections
Regular Pool Inspections
Regularly inspect your pool for signs of wear and tear. Address any potential hazards promptly to prevent accidents and maintain a safe environment.
Pool Equipment Maintenance
Keep pool equipment and filtration systems in good condition. Regular maintenance ensures proper functionality and reduces the risk of malfunctions.
Conclusion
Enjoying a gunite pool and spa combination is a dream come true, but safety must remain a priority. By implementing these essential safety measures and guidelines, you can create a secure environment for all pool users. Integrating a spa with your existing gunite pool can elevate your experience, but remember that safety always comes first. With proper planning, education, and ongoing maintenance, you can relish the pleasure of your aquatic retreat while ensuring the well-being of your loved ones and guests.
Read more : Unmatched Durability of Gunite Pools
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webism · 2 months ago
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KINKTOBER DAY FIVE: overstimulation with ino takuma.
kinktober masterlist
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overstimulating ino to the point of tears is more common an occurrence than you'd thought it would be when you first started dating. you knew he was in tune with his emotions—that he was a sweetheart, but you didn't know how pretty he looked when he cried for you.
whether it's with your hands, your mouth, your pussy, a vibrator, a dildo... you know how to spur him over the edge over and over and over until you've rendered him beyond stupid with lust and longing for more.
you had asked him once, after washing his face for him and kissing the lash lines that had just been pooling, whether the tears were emotional or purely a physical response to being overstimulated. he had replied, albeit sheepishly, that it's a very even split of both.
because there was the physical aspect of being overstimulated:
the laying of himself down to you, subjecting his body to a sexual torture he so often craved. placing his pleasure, and sometimes pain, directly into your hands.
the weeping of his cock, all pretty and leaky and swollen with overuse—the electric jolts that would run from tip to base each time you'd press further, coax another orgasm out of him. the way it would twitch and jump at the slightest of touches anywhere else, how neglected it would feel if you weren't devoted to milking him dry.
the tightening of his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, as he cums over and over again under your ministrations. the sheen of glossy release that covers his belly, the trail of hair that runs down his navel towards the base of his cock. the contraction of his muscles with each time you make contact with his burning skin. how he folds forward in his instinctual attempts to run away from the overwhelming stimulation.
his ass, if you so choose to tend to that too. the way he writhes when you stimulate his prostate, fists clenching and back arching off the bed. how he moans as you fuck him with your fingers, or a toy if he's feeling extra desperate to be filled.
his lips, how they tremble with need. the way he babbles, any eligible words lost in the moans and groans of pure ecstasy. he speaks gibberish, can't get half a word out without breaking into a sob.
his hair, how it sticks to his sweat-soaked forehead. how pretty it looks when you push it out of his face and expose those pretty blown out eyes of his.
and then there's the emotional aspect of being overstimulated:
the loss of self, the melting of his being into the mattress as he slips into total focus on how you make him feel. being so intact with the physical stimulation, being a man who gets his ass beaten for a living, is daunting.
the intimacy it leaves, to let himself be worked over the edge so many times by you. how your body is the only one that could bring him pleasure, and you give it to him full force over and over again. in a display of ownership, perhaps. or care—ino knows he'll always be taken care of by you, maybe to a point of nearly passing out, but never neglected.
the love he feels when you touch him in any regard. there's no difference to the way his heart swells when you hold his hand or when you sit yourself down on his cock. he's in love, heart eyes and all. and exuding every last ounce of his physical stamina to give you as many of his orgasms as he can is, in fact, a display of his love. he empties himself for you, offers his physical and mental wellbeing to you on a platter to lick clean.
the safety of it all. to be so vulnerable with you that he's barely sentient in thought by the time you're done with him, in a world so dangerous? it's an aphrodisiac in itself. there's a real deep sexual intimacy to a lack of danger that ino feels in full force when you're pulling a heinous amount of orgasms from him.
it's his favourite thing, to be laid bare both physically and emotionally. of course he cries—he loves you and he loves the way you can pleasure him so overwhelmingly that it hurts. he cries tears of pain, of love, of joy, and of unbridled lust.
and you kiss them away each and every time.
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draconic-desire · 9 months ago
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A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon
Yandere Neuvillette x Reader
[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]
The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship
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It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.
For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.
Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.
You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.
You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.
One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.
One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.
“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.
You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”
Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”
You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”
On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.
During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.
Or so you thought.
~*~
The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.
You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.
“And how do you plead?”
The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.
Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.
This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.
Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.
Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.
You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.
If only you knew the true extent of his desires.
~*~
Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.
“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.
Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”
Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”
Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”
That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.
The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.
But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.
Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.
Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.
Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.
“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”
When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.
Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?
~*~
Those eyes will be my downfall.
Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.
Archons, help me.
You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”
Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.
That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.
Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”
Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”
“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”
You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.
Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?
“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”
You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.
Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”
A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?
“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”
A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.
Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.
But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.
The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”
You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.
“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.
You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”
Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.
“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”
You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.
Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”
You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.
Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”
You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”
“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”
At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.
Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.
You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.
“You are to be my wife.”
You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.
Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.
After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”
“Quite, I’m afraid.”
You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”
“Please, call me Neuvillette.”
Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”
The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”
You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.
Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”
“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.
“My dear, I am the court.”
You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”
Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.
Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.
As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.
In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”
Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”
“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”
Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”
Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”
Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”
He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”
“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”
Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”
The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.
A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.
You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”
He closed the doors.
~*~
Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.
True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”
The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.
Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.
You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.
And so, each day was passed much in the same:
1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.
2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.
3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.
4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.
5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.
6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.
7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.
Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.
“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”
Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.
You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”
The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”
Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”
Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”
You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.
The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.
But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.
Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”
Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”
At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”
A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”
Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”
Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”
You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.
“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”
Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”
Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”
Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”
Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!
Fontaine was unrecognizable.
The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.
“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.
You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.
“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”
The silence that followed was all you needed to know.
“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.
For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.
Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.
It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.
If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”
Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”
Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.
He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”
~*~
Neuvillette was many things.
And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.
And yet, you refused to drown.
As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,
The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.
You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.
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parentingvip · 3 months ago
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moonlight-prose · 2 months ago
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WONDERING WHY
a/n: this is for the logan promptober hosted by the lovely @silverskyeline! i'm not gonna do the whole list cause i would stress myself out to an insane degree. but a few caught my eye. so i've thrown together some small fics for the man himself in the hopes of scattering them throughout october. this is also late one day cause of well me having a shitty time in life rn. but i hope y'all enjoy!
logan promptober: day six - cowboy
summary: loving logan howlett felt like loving a ghost. he returned when the moon hung low in the sky and his time gave way for freedom. but when you needed him most, he arrived on your doorstep with the promise of giving you exactly what you want.
word count: 3.5k+
pairing: cowboy!old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI IT'S 18+ ONLY, romance, love, angst, longing, pining, they're obsessed with each other, filthy kissing, p in v sex, rough sex, spit, choking (sorta), calling the pussy her/she, he's an old man who fucks insanely well, feral old man logan.
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Pale moonlight brushed across the Earth with strokes of paint. Stars were sprinkled along the night sky, glimmering in darkness as you leaned against the doorway of your home. The lantern flame flickered with each waft of cool air that breezed past you. Pooling inside where a fire cracked and sparked—offering enough warmth to keep you sated for the remainder of time.
At least until he returned home.
You listened for the familiar clop of hooves, the click of his tongue guiding the horse where to go. Hoping that eventually he’d turn the bend in the dirt road and find his way back to the safety of your shared bed.
This was a routine you knew well—one you found solace in as the days grew short and sunlight became sparse. In summer he often returned when the clock struck midnight; the weariness of a long day spent riding through towns and hunting with others was normal. If a little grueling. Although you never complained. You knew who he was when you met him—understood the ups and downs of what this relationship would be.
Logan wasn’t anything if true to his word right at the start. I’m not gonna be here every day sugar, but I’ll be here when you need me.
Eventually you’d have to blow out the lantern and amble back indoors. Calling it quits on yet another night spent alone. He didn’t like it when you were out past a certain time—raiders and hunters alike were more than willing to break in without remorse. Especially if they didn’t know who resided inside, who shared your bed on nights like tonight.
“I need you,” you sighed, shutting your eyes to the sight of an empty road.
They were empty words of hope strung together to make a wish on whatever star caught your eye. Rarely did they work. Although some nights you wondered if magic twined with your solemn prayer—summoning the man you so desperately wanted. It was wishful thinking, a well full of reverie you continuously drank from. Although maybe it was the poison that would one day cause you to drop dead. Maybe…Logan was a figment of all that you could never have.
He might not even exist.
Your eyes fluttered open, glancing up at the sky with anticipation of a falling star. The echo of hooves along dirt drew your attention from your nightly ritual—curiosity pulling you close and whispering promises of giving you everything you wanted. It was probably a stranger. Someone looking for an easy place to spend the night. Logan always told you to say no with a shotgun in your hands, and your body tensed in preparation to grab for the gun propped near the doorway.
Relief flooded your veins at the sight of a familiar dark brown leather coat, his hat tipped low enough to hide the eyes that loomed beneath—glinting with a darkness you'd only seen once or twice in your time together. Calloused and scarred hands gripped loosley at the reins as the horse trotted up the path—finding it's way home with ease.
There was a pull between the two of you. Insatiable and feral and strong enough to have him searching for you the second he drew closer to the house. Hazel eyes fatigued by the long trip back locked onto your form. Plush skin and curves hidden beneath layers of a dress you had yet to strip off.
You would leave that to him, knowing how much he enjoyed tugging at the strings of your corset—undoing the buttons to set you free.
"Gonna catch your fuckin' death," he muttered, his boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. You relished the sound, unable to stop your smile.
"I was waiting for you."
He huffed, wrapped the reins around the wooden fence he built steadily over the years—the leather bag on his saddle now strapped over his wide shoulder. "Shouldn't be waitin' on a man like me sugar."
"You always say that."
"And I'm always right."
"Would you prefer I wait on someone else?" you inquired, a challenge glinting in your eyes.
He bit back a growl, hand settling on your hip to drag you to the edge of the front step as he stepped to the one below. "Are you tryin' to tell me somethin'?"
The possession in his eyes made your heart race, your fingers digging into the soft leather permeated by the scent of cigars smoked in various saloons. He felt familiar, a home you didn't know could exist within another person. The house you two built resided in his heart; the missing piece you searched for on nights spent without him. But now you had it in your grasp—fitting it back into place with a sigh of bliss.
The picture of peace finally pressed itself to your soul, caressing a part of your love that left each time he mounted his horse—the promise of coming home on the tip of his tongue.
"I haven't found someone else yet, but I very well could-"
The rumble in his chest was layered with everything he'd never say with words. "Try it," he growled. "And I'll have to make a fuckin' graveyard out back."
Heat pooled rapidly into your stomach, elation fluttering through your heart. You knew an animal hid in the depths of his chest. Feral with claws and teeth that snapped at the thought of someone taking what was his. You'd never belong to someone else. You'd never want to. The echo of his words seared into your mind, a vow of forever etched into each vowel and consonant.
He was home. He was here. He was real.
"There's no one else," you murmured, leaning your forehead against his—lips brushing against his with each soft admission. "There could never be anyone else."
All that would go unspoken, all neither of you could say.
I love you. I'll love you forever. Whatever this is…it will only end when we're buried six feet under.
"Good," he replied gruffly. "Now give your old man a proper fuckin' welcome."
The smile you wore deepened as his warm hand cupped your cheek. His skin was dry from the leather and a few cuts were scattered here and there, but nothing could resemble this. The blooming heat that spread across your chest like the roots of an ancient tree. He held you with a tenderness that might have shocked you at first—the fear of harming you burning hot in his stomach.
But this was how he always touched you. With a love that couldn't be replaced. A promise soldified in the lines of his palm, fate driven and earthly bound, and yours forevermore.
Finding his lips beneath his hat, you let go of the breath held deep in your lungs. The taste of his cigars spread on your tongue. A familiar morsel of home you gravitated towards. Later in the evening—when you were both lethargic and naked and covered in all sorts of fluids—he'd puff on a brand new cigar. Giving you taste with lazy kisses and smiles traded in the dark of night.
"Missed you Logan," you mumbled, tongue sliding against his with a breathy moan. "I always miss you."
He chuckled, deep enough to vibrate against your chest—his hands sliding down to grip your waist. "You wanna show me how much?"
"You'd like that huh." Smiling into the kiss, you felt his teeth dig into your lips. He sucked it with a groan, fingers digging harshly into the layers of fabric.
"Mhm." His breath was harsh against your cheek, each kiss filled with a need to ravage what belonged to him. To prove he still held space in your heart. "Missed you every fuckin' day sugar."
You laughed, toying with the hair at the base of his skull—curling your fingers around it to tug him back. The moan he rewarded you with made saliva pool in your mouth. His eyes watched you, dazed with want, mouth parted and swollen from your kisses. And you burned the image of him in your mind.
"You wanna show me how much baby?" you breathed, brushing your lips to his with a teasing laugh.
A biting growl ripped from his throat. "Get inside before I take you out here."
"There's an idea."
The harsh slap to your hip dragged a peal of laughter out of your chest. Stumbling back, your hands yanking the hat off his heat and working the jacket down his arms, you kissed him as if you'd never get the chance to again. Wet and spit slicked. Until your teeth clashed together and his tongue was halfway down your throat. Each moan that dripped from his mouth into yours felt like a fucking reward.
A blissful reminder that you weren't alone; he stood before you, frenzied and aching to feel your skin on his.
Logan couldn't figure out how he wound up in this haven. A home, a lover that stole his breath with each look, and forever right on the horizon. Years spent alone only offered the promise of torment, of a life overflowing with an endless amount of pain.
But for some unknown reason, the sun that used to sear his skin now stood before him lighting the pathway home. The brilliance of you blinded him—warmed every cold aspect that resided in the depths of his chest. Yet he'd rather spend the rest of his life in your fierce heat than suffer in the biting cold again.
Oh how lucky he felt just getting the chance to burn.
Desire simmered sharply in the base of your stomach the further you got into the house—his teeth biting down to the column of your throat, fingers toying with the laces of your corest. He devoured you like a sweet thing to be had. A treat he rarely got to partake in tasting. And fuck if he wasn't going to take his time. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it up and off his body with a hoarse shout of glee—nails piercing the flesh of his shoulders as he yanked your leg around his hip.
He practically dragged you to the small bedroom, tearing off the clothing as he went with harsh snarls of want. You'd worry about mending the fabric later in the morning. Or perhaps the day after that. Given how you could feel the heft of his cock through his pants, pressing to your stomach with each small shift of your body.
"On the bed." The command was punctuated with a slap to your ass—a sharp bite against the skin of your collarbone drew a soft moan to the surface.
He tugged the front of your corset down, dropping to the ground with the remainder of your skirts. Baring yourself to Logan with a smile, you felt the emptiness slip down onto the wood of the bedroom floor. Expelling from your body with each panted breath and soft carress. He turned you inside out with the smallest of actions—the barest of touches.
The time he spent alone and wrapped in thoughts of you became all he lived off of. Your memory turned into the reason he stayed alive.
Unlike so much of his life he now held an answer to why he dragged himself home. Why he forced himself to keep going.
"Lemme see her." His hand wrapped around your leg, pulling open your thighs for him to catch a glimpse of what lay between.
You'd been dripping since he arrived. A sticky wet mess that begged for his attention. Logan salivated at the sight, his eyes zeroing in on the way you glistened for him. On any other night he'd sit you on his face in a quick attempt at gaining the close proximity he longed for when he was gone. Tonight served for a different want—a biting need that dug its teeth into his skin.
"She missed me huh," he mumbled, thumb sliding through your wet folds.
You moaned, breathy and restless. "She did baby."
"'M gonna give her what she needs."
"Logan," you sighed, hand outstretched for him to take. "Need you close."
Every nerve lit like a fuse when he gifted you with a full smile. "I will sugar. Lemme just look at ya first huh?"
With a nod you let your legs spread apart, arms draped above your head. The sight of you stole his breath, but you didn't fare any better. His skin scattered with scars you kissed a thousand times over still rendered you incapable of speaking. Hell you weren't even sure you'd taken a breath since he walked through the door.
Though his body was worn and his hair was graying, you couldn't deny he remained the most beautiful man you ever set your eyes on.
"Like what you're lookin' at?"
Your grin was lazy, eyes overflowing with a language Logan once thought he'd never learn yet now could be considered fluent in. Love.
"I really do," you whispered, sharing the secret with him. The words rarely spoken were shouted at the top of your lungs in each loving praise.
He shook them off when you first met him. Claimed they were false words to make yourself feel better about loving an animal who walked and talked like a human. Although, over time he allowed them to sink into his skin, bathe over his broken and weary soul.
They held him together like a ribbon tied through his soul, placed neatly in a bow on his heart.
His hand was swift in undoing his belt, pushing the remainder of his clothes off to join yours heaped on the floor. And you drank in the sight of the man you adored climbing over your body with a hungry gaze. Your heart flipped, grip sliding along his back as you welcomed him in between your legs—the heavy weight of his cock a warm press against your thigh.
"Welcome home." The smile melded into the kiss he placed on your lips, tongue sliding in the curve along your teeth, to taste every bit of you he could reach.
Bucking your hips into his, you dug your nails into his lower back in the hopes that he'd move. He swallowed your whine, spit trailing down your chin when he pulled back to catch his breath. Moving slowly never worked for you—entirely used to the man who broke you with the intent of putting you back together—and right now was no exception. The torment of not having him tore at your heart, put a splinter in the longing simply to crack you in two even further.
"Hold still," he grunted, his hand shoving your hips back onto the bed. "Movin' so fuckin' much I'm gonna have to tie you down."
Your gasp was wet—needy. "Please. Fuck please-"
"Right." His other hand slid up your torso to rest against the base of your throat—thumb running along the smooth skin that covered your racing pulse. "I forgot who you are, sugar. You'd like that huh?"
Teeth tore at your bottom lip, eyes glazed and pupils blown wide the longer he held you there. Anticipation fried your nerves with each second that passed. But Logan wasn't a cruel man. He knew what you ached for—what you'd give up everything for. The closeness of the man you loved; a chance to have his body, heart, and soul.
Gripping himself, he tapped his cock against your clit, sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. A smile bloomed across his lips at your responding moan—fire streaking down your spine, curling along your limbs. He could drive you to madness and yet you'd thank him each time.
You would be grateful for anything he gave you.
"Don't get quiet on me now." His lips trailed along your cheek as he notched himself at your entrance. "Go on and sing for me sweetheart."
He sunk in with a smooth thrust, stretching you with slickened pain and a hoarse moan against the shell of your ear. And you forgot how to breathe. The pinch of pain quickly dampened with the roll of his hips—the head of his cock pressing snugly against your walls. This is what you missed, what your body screamed for.
The potent euphoria that drowned you under its vicious waves.
"So tight," he grunted. "Guess she really did miss me."
"Logan-" Your head tipped back into the pillows, a loud moan breaking the silence that curled over your bodies like a blanket.
"There she is." Pulling back slightly, he slammed back into you, nearly shoving you up the bed. "My pretty little songbird."
Nothing held you back from the sounds he drew out of your mouth. Each one louder than the last. Until the room was filled with a symphony of your combined pleasure, the vulgar echo of skin slapping against skin and your slick dripping down onto the bed, became all you could think about.
He thrived off it. The sight of you whittled down to nothing but a needy mess, begging for a small hint of his love. Maybe that made him an old man far too fucking dirty to be with someone as prescious at you. But he'd let the guilt eat him alive later. He'd worry about stealing your youth out from under you in the afterglow of feeling you cum.
A harsh thrust that struck against the sensitive spongy part of your walls had your knees clamping around his hips—your fingers scratching at his back to get him to slow down. You needed a chance to breathe, to regain some sense. Logan merely smiled, his fingers tightening around your throat to drag your head up. His lips slotting against yours in a messy kiss.
"Where do ya think you're goin'?" he growled, repeating the move with a bitten out groan. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you. Now you're running?"
"T-Too much-"
The angle changed sharply and suddenly he was no longer grinding into you but fucking right on that spot. A sharp sob of his name only added fuel to the quickly forming flame, quickening his movements until you felt your entire body begin to grow taut.
Slick smeared on the inside of your thighs, sticky and warm and loud enough to make you dizzy each time you heard it. He panted into your mouth, using the hold on your throat as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock.
Logan didn't love softly. He couldn't. Brutality was all he was capable of giving you and like the sweetest angel you took it with a smile. You let him use you up until his name was all you could comprehend. The heady scent of his sweat filled your senses, the salty tang of his skin spread along your tongue as you bit into his shoulder—your teeth marring his already marked skin.
Eventually it would turn purple, fading quicker than usual, but he'd wear it with pride. His own trophy after tearing you apart beneath him.
"Gonna cum?" he asked, mouthing at your breast, moaning at the taste of your skin. "I can feel it."
You nodded frantically, body going taut with each slap of his hips on yours. "C-Can I?"
"So fuckin' polite," he groaned, sucking on your nipple before letting it loose with a pop. Spit dripping down to your stomach. "'Course you can sugar."
Tugging at his hair, you felt the tremble in your thighs spread to the rest of your body. His other hand slipped between your bodies, thumbing at your throbbing clit with a soft moan, dragging you right to the edge of a cliff. A sharp grind of his hips broke the dam within you, flooding you with a mind numbing bliss that scorched your skin.
You cried his name until your throat went raw, tears spilling hotly down your cheeks that he licked up with a smile. The fluttering of your walls dragged a hoarse shout from his chest, his teeth clamping down onto any part of he could reach. He followed you instantly, shoving his cock deep enough to hurt as he filled you with enough cum to spill out.
The echo of your breaths resounded off the wooden walls, his hand dipping down to smear his cum along the inside of your thighs. Coating you in his essence; claiming you with his scent that burned the inside of his nose.
"I did you know," you mumbled, kissing the newly formed bruise on his skin. "Miss you."
He sighed, his forehead dropping to yours. "I know sugar. I missed you too."
"Will you stay this time?"
A grin pulled at the corners of his lips, hips rolling into yours to pull another weak moan from those pretty lips he longed to kiss. "As long as ya want me."
The hesitancy clamped around your heart, filling your stomach with anxiety. You wanted to beg him to never leave again, to spend each moment in the safety of this house. But Logan had always been a ramblin man. He'd never stay in one place too long. Even if eventually he found his way back here, back in the safety of your home.
"Forever?" you breathed, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Logan's heart twisted at the sight. "Yeah sugar," he replied, dipping down to drag his lips along yours. "I like the sound of that.”
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