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goldustwomun · 8 months ago

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all of me wants all of you (s.b.)

pairing: sirius black x younger potter!reader

summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. plus, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: angst so much angst, some healing as well, hugs from a concerned mother, more angst, more angst, fluff?, actual communication omg, do you ever meet someone's eyes and just one look from them has you breaking down and bawling, yeah :) , not proofread but i'll do it in the morning!!

wc: 3.3k+

note: i've been on some sort of writing kick so enjoy these daily updates D: anyway can y'all tell i'm MISSING my mum. only four more weeks though! x

pt i. / pt ii. / pt iii.

You were elbow deep in a sink of dirty dishes, your Mum towelling dry the plates next to you, when you finally came out and said it.

“Am I a disappointment, Mum?”

She froze right there, arms poised and plate hovering mid-air. It was only a second later when she recovered, gently placing the dish on the counter when she turned to look at you. Her head was titled in that concerned way of hers, and you’re not sure what it was about the look in her eyes – of hurt and worry and love – but the tears started flowing right then and there.

“Oh, my love, how could you ever think that?” she questioned, tugging you into her arms, not caring about the water from your hands or the tears from your eyes soaking her new cotton dress. She smelled of chamomile tea and custard creams and home. And as much as you thought you hated her sometimes; her reassurance was what you needed most when the world seemed out to get you.

“You could never disappoint me or Da’, you know that.” She pulled back, forcing you to look up into her eyes, noticing the shimmer across her own irises. “Tell me you know that my sweetest girl.”

“I—” and your voice broke but you kept going— “I don’t know if I do.” With a deep breath you tried to explain it all. “It just seems like everyone hates me sometimes. And I guess it, I’m difficult, I know that I am, but sometimes—I mean, a lot of the time, really, it feels like I can’t control it. When I argue and bicker and stomp away in a tantrum. It’s these feelings—I have so many, and I never know what to do with them, and it’s like drowning in indecision and I always make the wrong choice.”

“I know, love, I know,” she soothed, pulling you back in and smoothing her palm across your hair. You melted into her embrace like you hadn’t since you were ten years old. “You’re so much like me, you know? I swear, hear it every time we’re out with our friends. And when I was your age, I felt that way too. Lost and overwhelmed and like I wasn’t enough.”

“So, what did you do—to get rid of those feelings, I mean?” you asked, already dreading her answer.

“I didn’t. And you shouldn’t want to, either.” You almost lifted your head to argue but stopped yourself before you could. “Your emotions and feelings and thoughts and dreams—they make you who you are. Of course, it’s important to acknowledge the root of the ones that pester you the most and try to understand why they have such a hold over you. And maybe it’s my fault, really, for not saying it more, but we are so so proud of you.”

“I think you say it more to James and Sirius than you do to me,” you pointed out, a slight bite to your words but not enough to sting.

“James is, well, James. I can’t deny that he’s occasionally—” you raised your eyebrow incredulously at that and she responded with an amused eyeroll— “struggled with his classes and getting it together, so it seemed important to guide him in the right direction with praises. Sirius, on the other hand—well, we’re all he has. We just wanted him to feel loved.”

You nodded, understanding, but not sure how you fit into all of this. “Then you, my love. When you were younger you were always naturally good at things. I never understood where you got that from cause it certainly wasn’t from me. You put little effort into things and excelled, so maybe I got used to the idea that I knew you’d always be alright even if I didn’t say anything. But that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have withheld my pride out of laziness.”

“I don’t think you’re lazy, Mum,” you urged, but she hushed you with that stern voice of hers.

“I’m sure you don’t but shush because I won’t admit it again,” she scolded, her voice entirely mocking and somewhere between those tears, you managed a smile. “Your Da’ and I always knew you’d go on to do brilliant things. You’re intelligent, and passionate, and those muggle kids of yours adore you. You’re shaping their lives in ways you can’t even know, and they’re lucky to have you, just like I am, my sweet girl.”

She leaned forward, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“And do you hate that I live at home still?”

She reeled back, both shocked and confused. “of course not. We love having you here! It’s entirely selfish, really. Got to convert James’ old room into a study, as well as keep you around for the company and to help with chores. If anything, I don’t want you to move out,” she explained, serious. “Really, if you had more natural light in your room, we would’ve helped you to a new place the second you graduated from Hogwarts.”

You barked out a laugh at that, entirely believing her. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m wanted, or whatever.” You could feel your cheeks flaring at the thought of saying it out loud, but you ignored the feeling to relish in your Mum’s embrace a little while longer.

“Oh, yeah—whatever,” she teased, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from your face. “You could never disappoint me.”

All you could do was nod before your face dropped with apprehension. “What—what is it, love?” she asked, concerned herself.

“Well, you see, you say that now but I did something kind of dumb…” you trailed off, unable to confess just yet.

“What did you—you didn’t murder someone, did you? Because I love you but I don’t think I could manage Azkaban with those arthritis flare ups I’ve been getting.”

“What--! Mum, no, I didn’t—how could I? How could you think I’d be capable of murder?!” and really it had been the longest you’d gone without absolutely belting at someone.

“You are quite easily irritated,” she reasoned.

“If people stopped being so irritating—” you stopped, taking a deep breath, before confessing— “No, it’s both better and worse.”

“Go on,” she encouraged, but even she didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“I kissed Sirius.”

And it was like crickets between the two of you. Not a scolding shout or a cry of horror or—

“Okay… and is that it?” she asked bluntly.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’. It’s wild, unbelievable, otherworldly, even!” you sputtered, not quite comprehending the calm with which she was speaking.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, love. It’s not a good look,” and she pushed you out of the way to continue scrubbing at the dirty dishes, ignoring your stunned frame.

“Aren’t you going to ask me ‘why’?” you pushed, peering over her shoulder to check she was very much alive and breathing and not pranking you with a bit of some sort.

“I don’t need to, I know why,” she answered simply. You balked, tugging her shoulder back so she halted her movements and turned to face you.

“And what might that ‘why’ be?”

“It’s simple, really. You love him, you’ve always loved him. Since you were five and he pushed James into the dirt for stealing your copy of that Tiger, Wizard, and Cabinet’ book.”

You couldn’t help the way your hand slapped against your face right then, from exhaustion or exasperation, you weren’t sure. “It’s the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Mum,” you groaned.

“That definitely doesn’t sound right,” she pouted. “Anyway, he got the book back from James and you were so pleased you came up to me and said ‘Mummy, I think Sirius isn’t so bad after all, can we keep him?’. And when I explained the laws around owning human beings, you huffed and hid under the dining room table all day until you fell asleep.”

“Well, that does sound like me…”

“Of course, it sounds like you. I’m your mother,” she chided. “You didn’t start pretending to hate Sirius until you were about ten or eleven and he got that first girlfriend of his. What was her name—Lacey? Macey?”

“Stacey,” you chewed out, only to realise the anger with which you spoke her name despite never having known her. “Oh—”

“’Oh’ indeed. And what did you say to young Sirius after this kiss?” she pried, entirely engrossed in the story now as she rested her hip against the damp counter.

“I might’ve—you know---”

“No! you didn’t!” she burst out, already knowing exactly what you were going to say.

“I did, Mum, I did,” you moaned, pathetic and questioning if there was any way to rectify the situation, you’d found yourself in.

“Well, I can’t help you with that, love. You’re on your own, kid,” she explained, wiping her hands clean before sending you off (you weren’t entirely sure where, exactly) with a pat on your back.

If you were anyone else, you would’ve taken such an encouraging conversation and somewhat-healed trauma of your childhood as a sign to go speak with Sirius.

But no, lucky for you, you were you.

He hadn’t shown up to work all week, using the flu as an excuse. So when James and Lily invited you over for a small gathering— “Really, James, two parties in one month? What kind of home are you raising my nephew in!”—you hadn’t thought much of it, or him.

“Do let me know if I’ve got this correct– you’ve decided to host a fourth of July party despite not being American, or, now that I think about it further, ever having been to America?” you questioned, genuinely worrying for Lily’s sanity as she rocked a bumbling Harry on her lap, cheeks painted with red, white and blue stars.

“Well, when you put it like that,” James groused, pouting, arms folded against his chest despite being the adult that he was.

“How else would you put it, James?” you argued, exasperated.

Lily perked up at the sound of a potential fight and silenced the two of you with a single look. If anyone was made to be a mother, it had to be Lily. She was compassionate and kind and gentle, as much as she could scare you with a simple glance, she could soothe all your worries as well.

“Look, I just needed an excuse to have a beer, and what better excuse is there than this! The holiday of beers—” I thought that was St. Paddy’s “—Hush! Otherwise, I’d have to wait for someone’s birthday or, what’s the next holiday–? Halloween? That’s ages away.”

You smirked at his odd logic. “Obviously it doesn’t necessarily have to be very Americana or whatever. Red, white and blue– just close your eyes and pretend it’s the beloved Union Jack instead!”

The gathering wasn’t as big as the last one, and you recognised the few familiar faces as Lily and James’ closest friends: Remus, Marlene, Mary, Peter, Sirius—

Sirius? Your head whipped back in a double take, watching as he pulled Remus into a hug ‘hello’ right by the garden gate. He hadn’t noticed you, not yet, but it didn’t take long for his gaze to fixate right on you. You couldn’t read his face, not having ever quite mastered the skill, but this time especially, he looked dazed and withdrawn.

Even his smiled seemed tight, like he didn’t quite mean it, and your heart plummeted at the thought that you’d done that to him.

“I’ll be right back,” you offered, distracted, to James as he preoccupied himself with squeezing Harry’s chubby fist.

Sirius had gone straight inside, probably headed for the kitchen, and you followed suit, wondering what it was about your brother’s house that had the two of you both rushing to and avoiding confrontation.

You found him right where you had expected—peering into the dimly lit fridge and pulling out a bottle of beer.

“Sirius,” you said, announcing your presence as you let the door click shut behind you. Luckily, no one else was inside the house, rather taking in the one day of sunlight and light breeze in an otherwise damp English spring.

You watched as his shoulders tensed instantly, and you just knew he wanted to be anywhere else but there, with you, at that moment, but he turned to face you anyway.

“How can I help, Potter?” he asked, keeping his cards close to his chest still.

“Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now,” he pointed out, brow raised as he took a deep gulp of his drink, cringing at the taste.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” you pushed back, inching a step forward.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” he replied smoothly, seemingly untouched by the implication behind your words.

“You’re such a prick sometimes, Sirius.”

“And you’ve only just noticed? My, didn’t take you as slow, Potter,” he noted, mockingly, and you flinched at his casual cruelty.

“Don’t do that,” you scolded.

“Do what?” he fought back, “Speak my mind? Seems like you’re the only one allowed to do that around here, and when anyone dares contest, well, all hell breaks loose.”

“You’re not speaking your mind, though,” you argued.

“Ah, and you know my mind so well, do you?” The annoying thing about Sirius, amongst many other things, was that he knew how to get under your skin. Had perfected the craft after years of verbal combat with you. So his words poked and prodded at your soft underbelly with ease as he brandished his hurt around like a swordsman with a too-heavy sword.

“Maybe not entirely, but when it comes to us, I think I know enough.” He stayed silent after that, hesitant, as if waiting for you to make the first move. “The other day, when we kissed—” and you knew you were getting hotter because something, some feeling, flickered behind his irises “—I said it was a mistake—”

“—I know, love. I was there,” he scowled. “No need to remind a man of his failings.”

“Just— let me finish!” You inhaled, slow, before continuing. “I said it was a mistake when, in fact, I felt the opposite. It’s just—it’s you and I, Sirius, and when it comes to us, I might know, inside, what I mean and feel and intend to show but when it comes to the actual ‘doing’ part of it all, I always seem to mess up. So, when I said it was a mistake, what I really meant was—”

And it was his turn to cut you off with his mouth, only this time it was sweet and yearning and apologetic as opposed to the fire and passion and lust that had guided the two of you the last time you’d found yourself in his hold.

His mouth slid over your own, careful and inquisitive, whilst his palms cradled your face, as if you’d slip out of his grasp if he moved even an inch in the wrong direction.

It was lovely, really.

As much as you wished for him to keep going, to keeping kissing you like he might yearn for you too (though you wouldn’t be saying those three words for a while), you were horribly aware of the fact that Lily, or worse, your brother, might walk in at any moment.

So, Sirius didn’t allow himself to get carried away with you, not yet at least, and instead he pulled away with a content sigh, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as if to memorise it by feel alone.

“Is that our thing then? Kisses in the form of sneak-attacks?” you mused, vibrating and giddy and utterly pleased.

“Could be, if you want?” and it seemed like he was still entranced with your mouth to properly reply in any meaningful manner.

“Sirius,” you pleaded, urging him to look at you, properly. He tore his gaze away from your lips, finally, and the way his face split into a grin had those fucking butterflies returning, tenfold. “Are you okay?”

“I will be once I take you to mine and do that all over again, only, a little less clothed and a lot more horizontal” he promised, the cheek of his you had come to endearing having return after his previous sulking.

“You’re a menace,” you groaned as he buried his smirking face into the crook of your neck, holding you tight to him before his grip relaxed and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you right there.

“I know, and I’m only joking—well, if you want me to be joking, I will be. But I’m fine—I swear it. It just seems surreal, us, like this,” he explained.

“I get that, it is a bit odd, but I’ve realised you need to contextualise those weird, new feelings and not let them control you, at least, not if they’re ‘bad’ or whatever,” you offered clumsily, trying, in your own way, to relay the same advice your Mum had.

He snorted in response, and you smacked his back from where your arms were wrapped around him. “You sound like your Mum.”

“Mm, that is my Mum. Only, she said it better, and more concise, and in that Mum-way that just makes sense.”

“Ah, well that makes a bit more sense.” He pulled back for a moment, not letting you out of the circle of his arms yet. “We should talk about this a little more, shouldn’t we?”

You nodded, sighing as you moved away from him to get a hold of your thoughts once more. “I think, for me at least, I conflated anger with my feelings for you because I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle them, and deep down, I worried you’d reject me, so it seemed easier to argue with you than—”

“--this,” he finished for you, and he must’ve read the agreement on your face because he bobbed his head in response. “It makes sense, really, and it’s about the same for me, only, there was the whole issue of James and, I mean, I’m older—”

“—by a few years,” you maintained, scowling, and he wanted to kiss you for it.

“Yes, love, but a few years means different things depending on how old you are. We’ve never really been in the same phase of life until now, so I don’t think I wanted it—nor would it have been appropriate, really—until a year or two ago. By then, it seemed too late, so I just kept—”

“—bickering.”

“Yeah, bickering. Arguing. Biting back. It was the safer option.” And everything he said made sense, it was all entirely reasonable, but you still mourned the time lost to not being entirely honest with each other.

“But there’s no point worrying over that now, not when we can’t do anything about it,” he reasoned, noting the faraway look in your eyes and centring you back, there, with him.

“We should get back to the party,” you whispered, fearing what would happen when the two of you left the safety on the kitchen, flooded still with gold and a certain stillness that had you aching for this moment to be forever.

“Yeah, love, let’s go back,” he answered, just as quiet, nudging his head toward the door. Just as your hand came up to turn the doorknob, Sirius’ palm came up in front of you, halting your movements. He stood, still, behind you, and close as ever. You could feel every breath he took, and that damn cologne you’d started missing in the bookstore as well. “Don’t worry about us, love, we’ll be fine,” he assured you.

You answered by turning the knob and making your way back towards the garden. Sirius followed from behind, and when you stepped through the backdoor, you realised how little had changed since you’d gone inside, but also just how much had changed, as well.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this <3

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black oneshot #marauders fanfiction #the marauders

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percyluvr · 5 months ago

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Hiii,i love your blog and your writing sm and that’s why i wanted to be brava and make a request!If you like the idea,can you please write a Percy imagine were reader is the daughter of Thetis(the water nymph/goddess and mother of Achilles)and she is the one that helps Percy with his water powers?Like they bond over that and fall in love with each other?Thank you very much!🩵🩵

percy jackson x daughter of thetis!reader summary: percy meets a nereid; the rest is history wc: 2524 note: thank you so much for reading my works, i'm vv glad u love my blog & i hope i could do this request justice. i wasn't exactly sure if her kid would be a demigod or a nymph, so i thought because i haven't really seen any fics w a nymph!reader, i would get a lil creative w it! i do know that achilles was considered a demigod, but i figured maybe her female children would be nereids(?)

Percy had been claimed as a son of Poseidon about a month ago at this point, and he was desperately trying to understand his powers. When he was claimed, he assumed that it would be easy to harness the power of the sea, since, well, his dad was the literal God of the Sea. Unfortunately, it was not coming as naturally as he had hoped and assumed it would, and so he now found himself swimming in the sea near Camp Half-Blood, searching for someone or something to help him get a leash on his powers.

He tried contacting his dad, to no avail; now aimlessly swimming. The only thing that had truly come natural to him was the ability to breathe under water, which was helpful now, since he didn't have to keep coming up to the surface for breath and could now just focus on finding help.

It'd been about 2 hours of just what others would consider mind-numbing swimming, but Percy enjoyed it anyhow.

He eventually found himself face to face with a young girl whom he would consider one of, if not the most beautiful person he'd ever come across. Though he was a son of Poseidon, Percy swears that he found it increasingly difficult to breathe. The longer he looked at you, the more and more aware he was that he was underwater, and all he could think was 'I'm a son of Poseidon and I'm going to drown, and because somehow it can get more embarrassing than that, I'm going to drown in front of a beautiful girl and she's probably going to laugh and I'm never even going to get to know her name or hear her voice, which is probably the most heavenly thing anyone would ever get a chance to hear and-'

His thoughts are broken when he hears you speak, and somehow your voice sounds even more heavenly than he had assumed it would be.

"Hello, Perseus," you say, smiling, and Percy thinks that his heart might just burst into a million little pieces that will eventually drift out into the water surrounding the two of you.

"Hey, hi, um," he struggles to assemble his thoughts into a coherent sentence.

"Take your time, Perseus. You will not run out of breath, as I believe you thought you would just a few seconds ago," you speak, fighting the urge to giggle at the silly boy that has found his way to your home.

"Um, first, you can just call me Percy, if you want. Second, I know I won't, I was just, uh, distracted for a second. And third, I'm here because, embarrassingly enough, apparently the fact that I'm the son of Poseidon doesn't matter to this water, which will not do anything I want it to unless I'm in a life or death situation, which does happen to occur quite often, so really I'd probably be fine, but I would sort of like to be able to have the comfort of knowing that I can actually use these cool powers that every tells me I have," he rambles. "Sorry, that was kind of a lot," he concludes.

"Do not worry, I followed along quite easily, actually. Anyhow, if you require assistance with your endeavors, I am here to aide you. When I'm not busy helping your father at the castle, that is," you offer.

"Really? I mean I was hoping you would say that, but I wasn't sure you would. But yeah, I'll take you up on that, thanks," he flashes you a smile.

"Wonderful. Feel free to stop by or call my name into the water, and I'll hear it and come to you if I'm able."

"Right, uh, not to be rude, but uh, what's your name?"

"Ah, right, I forget how you demi-gods don't bother to learn the names of the Nereids anymore."

When you tell him your name, you believe you see his eyes glisten in adoration, unless, of course, you're making that all up in your head because the boy in front of you is way cuter than you had ever imagined when you had just heard his name being thrown around by the gossiping Nereids around the palace.

"Well, then, Percy, you should be on your way. I have things to be doing now."

"Right, bye then. Thanks for, y'know, offering to teach me pretty much everything," he says bashfully.

"Of course." He begins to swim away and all you are left with the ability to do is wave as he slowly gets farther and farther away.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

It'd been not even a week since Percy had been, in his descriptions to his friends at camp, blessed by your presence, and though the two of you had barely become acquaintances, he found himself missing the sound of your voice and the odd, in his opinion, outdated way that you spoke.

This type of yearning for a person's presence is not the type of yearning he feels for his mother, Sally, and so, this feeling is quite new to Percy. Of course, as a teenage boy, he doesn't know how else to manage this intense feeling, so immediately he goes to the beach and calls your name into the water.

"Hello, Percy, I can't say I'm surprised that you're this eager to harness the power of the sea. I was also very invigorated when I first learned of what was possible once at one with the sea."

"Am I not already one with the sea? My dad is literally the God and King of the sea. And are you not also one with the sea from birth? Aren't Nereides water spirits or whatever?"

"Ah, Percy, you misunderstand. You are not born one with the sea, even as a Nereid. You must prove to the sea that you are not afraid of it, and that you will not take advantage of it. It may takes days, or weeks, but I suspect that you will do just fine."

"And how exactly am I supposed to prove that?"

"You will see," you said cryptically, and before Percy could object to this statement, you were gone, and he was staring out into the clear blue water of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Jeez, when someone offers to teach you, you would think they would actually teach you something and not just say some weird cryptic stuff and then disappear," he grumbles to no one in particular.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

Of course, you were correct in your assumption that Percy would quickly prove to the sea that he could be trusted to harbor its power. He manages to form a ball of water the size of a fist before losing focus, leaving the water to splash back down and become one with the sea again.

However, he was not discouraged, and in his invigorated state, he calls out for you without even realizing it.

"Hello, Perseus. I see that I was correct," you said, a bit smugly, Percy must say.

"Yeah, yeah. Will you actually teach me now?"

"Indeed. I wanted to be sure that you were competent enough for my help, so I do apologize for how ominous my words were."

"You're all good. I do have a question though, and feel free to try to drown me if this is rude."

"Do proceed with your inquiry." At that, Percy nearly bursts out laughing at how much you sounded like an office e-mail from someone's annoyed boss, but managed to somehow keep composure.

"Uh, why do you talk like.. I don't know, so formal. Aren't you my age?"

"I do apologize. I do believe you are older than me, which may come as a surprise to you. But to answer your main question, I talk so 'formal' because that is simply how everyone at the palace speaks. I suppose we do not have much contact with anyone outside of the ocean, and so we have not picked up on all of the latest dialects and ways of speaking."

"Well, I guess that makes sense then, my bad."

"Do not worry."

"So, uh, do I get to learn more about 'harnessing the power of the ocean' or whatever now?"

"I suppose now would be as good a time as any."

"Cool, cool, where do we start?"

You lift your fist into the air, a large section of water rising into the air and forming into the shape of a large sea turtle, forming into different animals as you rotate your hand in the air.

"Are you able to do that? Even a basic animal shape would be fine, but if not, we must begin, well, at the beginning."

"Oh, man," he grumbled

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

It'd been a few months of you popping in a few days a week to assist Percy with his ambitions, and he was finally able to wield the power of the sea like he once hoped he would be able.

However, September was rapidly approaching and Percy would soon have to return to school, meaning he would not get to see you nearly as often, which certainly put a damper on what was already a terrible week leading up to the start of the wretched school year.

And so, he resolved that the two of you would talk every day until he had to leave. He didn't care that he had progressed past the point of needing your help anymore, he just wanted to be in your presence for however much longer possible.

It was nearly instinct at this point for Percy to call your name out into the sea, and he was not one to fight it.

"Good to see you, Percy. But as I'm sure you're fully aware, you do not need my tutoring anymore. Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself, but I do believe that you've even surpassed me, and that doesn't come as a surprise," you praise.

"I don't know about that, but I am pretty cool now," he says jokingly.

You smile. "But uh, I didn't call you for practice, I just thought that, uh, that maybe we could just hang out, y'know? I mean you did help me a lot, so I figure why not give you some company outside of all those old people or whatever back at the palace," Percy admits.

"That doesn't sound horrible. You are quite interesting, I would like to get to know you more as well. And yes, I could use some time away from my fellow Nereids at the palace," you sheepishly say.

"That's what I thought. Hey, by the way, you never told me who your parents were. You know who my dad and mom are, but I don't know either of yours."

"Ah, my mother is a bit more obscure nowadays, as she's not one of the Goddesses that the Greeks traditionally worship as they do the Olympians. She is a water nymph, but also a Goddess, and unfortunately is no longer worshipped in the same proportion as she was in Ancient Greece," you sadly explain.

"Huh, that's pretty cool. I mean, not the part that she's not really worshipped anymore, but the part of her being a nymph and a Goddess. Um, anyways, do you ever talk to my dad?"

"Occasionally, your father will ask me to accompany him or to do various tasks. He is a kind man, I do like his presence, if that is what you were trying to get at."

"That's good. I've only talked to him a few times, but I figured he was a nice guy," Percy grins, "Do you ever get to talk to your mom?"

"Yes, my mother, Thetis, and I are quite close. She lives in the palace with me."

"Wow, I'll be honest, I'm kinda jealous. I mean, I think my dad is cool, and I know he's like a big shot Olympian and whatever, but I think it'd be nice if we could actually talk in person and bond or whatever," he admits.

"Yes, I understand. It must be hard, but for the majority of the year, you have your mother, yes? Or are you a year-round camper?"

"Yeah, you're right. I do have my mom for most of the year, so it's worth it. She's the best," he cheers up at the mention of his mother.

"I figured you would say that. She raised you well. You are much kinder than some of the campers here, but I suppose that is not their fault."

"Nah, it's not. It is what it is sometimes."

You nod, and the conversation flows smoothly on.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

Today was the last day that Percy would be at camp, since his mother was picking him up later that day after lunch.

He decided that since he only had a few hours left at camp for the summer, he would spend them with the person he now considered one of his closest friends, even though he'd only really known you for a few months at this point.

When he called your name, you appeared almost instantly.

"Hey, Percy," you said, grinning.

"Switching up the greeting today?"

"I suppose since today was your last day here, I would start trying to speak like you and perhaps by the time you came back from school, I would speak more 'naturally,' as you put it."

"Huh, the way you talk doesn't actually bother me, y'know."

"That may be true, but I would like to learn to speak more modernly anyhow."

"If you want to, go for it. But uh, I thought maybe we could do that thing, it's called like, Iris messaging or something? With the drachmas? Then we could keep in touch while I'm at school, too," Percy says nervously.

"That does sound like a good idea. Now that we're friends, I think it would be optimal that we spoke frequently and updated each other on our lives. Good thinking."

He chuckled. "Good, good. I, uh, also wanted to say that... well, I think you're really pretty, and I thought maybe next summer, we could, uh, maybe go on a date or something. I don't know if you feel the same way, but if you do and you do want to, that would be pretty cool," he rambles, interrupted by the foreign feeling of your lips on his.

After a few moments, you detach your mouth from his. "Was that, uh, alright?" You quietly ask.

"Yeah, jeez, that was way better than alright. That was perfect," he says, a deep red adorning his cheeks.

"That is excellent to hear," you say, smiling wider than you'd ever in your life.

"Well, I need to go to lunch, and uh, then my mom is picking me up. I'll Iris message you as soon as I get home, okay? So make sure you're ready."

"See you tonight, Percy," you happily state, dissolving back into the water as quickly as you had appeared.

He stares into the beautiful clear water for a bit before he walks away, unaware that you had appeared again and were watching him walk away, a look of adoration decorating your features.

#pjo #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson #pjo x you #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #book percy jackson

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throwaway-yandere · 10 months ago

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Ansy maybe I can send an idea about this. Maybe this yandere is turning into a zombie/monster, Reader sacrifices or willingly let's the yandere eat reader so the yandere wouldn't hurt others. Other idea, Yandere is a monster/cannibal and reader has a flesh that is very addicting to eat so yandere feels guilty for eating their darling but can't as darling tastes so delicious.

A/n: I'm actually currently writing the prompt I got earlier so here's some short ideas. also, what's up with me writing cannibalism fics for two older brothers with blue-white color schemes?? *shrug*. I'll go with the 2nd idea-ish (I'll tweak it again) in this one. First time doing headcanons so... I'll adios lol.

Content Tags: hello its yandere cannibalism lmao + Whodunit spoilers

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who strangely takes too long to respond to his childhood friend's messages. You're starting to get worried that he's spending too much time inside the dreamscape. Although your race greatly differs from his- being an ordinary human resident and all- you heard numerous stories that Halovians tend to carnally seek glamorous feasts after hosting series of events.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who finally replied to your recent message, telling you "DON'T COME, PLEASE." with bold capital letters. You can only raise an eyebrow, considering you're already on his front door with a fruit basket at hand. In hindsight, perhaps you should've considered giving him a heads-up beforehand instead of rudely announcing your visit. But you are genuinely worried for his overall wellbeing, especially given what happened to his sister.

And perhaps, you were also just looking for someone who could understand your grief as well. He wasn't the only one stripped of their family so suddenly. The thought of your friend starving himself had pushed your own sadness away in favor of sheer platonic worry. That was how strong your bond was.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who shook, mortified at the knocks on his front door. As much as possible, he can't let you in. The current nightmare he calls "HUNGER" was an unforgiving beast. He leaned against the other side of the closed door, breathing heavily.

"(Y/n), n-now is not the time for a visit! Forgive me for this crudeness, but I shan't open the door at present." You hear him inhale shakily. "To have you see me like this undermines all the work I've put in our... friendship."

You sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. But... can I please just leave this on your porch?"

"... I will not bar you from doing so..."

"Thank you."

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY whose hands refused to stop trembling. You're so close. He can almost taste you behind that door. A chill runs down his spine as he noticed just how much his mouth was watering at the thought of taking a bite.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who thought himself most detestable for his cravings. The Odes of Harmony preaches honesty among its many virtues, and he would drown himself for omitting the grim truth from you. THEY will not be happy with this relapse of his.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who bit his thumb, drawing blood. THEY wouldn't endorse this behavior from a representative of the Family.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who looked at his bleeding finger and laughed sorrowfully at the lingering question on his mind.

Whose blood was it? His... or THEIRS?

Sunday could never be at ease after committing this crime. A Halovian like himself would never allow their vision to be clouded in red, and it appears the devil had saw an opportunity to hurl at two birds with one stone. But that would be an inaccurate way to describe it. His wings had not been clipped; he had brutally torn it away himself.

Penacony's most shrewd man lied to the arrogant fool that evening. There were four murders in that timeframe. One was a stowaway, the other was his precious sister, and the last pair was both your father and mother.

THEIR vision of a happy future for you did not welcome HIM.

All he recalls now was their polite disapproval turned screams when he made an attempt to ask for their blessing. Sunday only realized what he had done the moment he had sunk his teeth down your mother's arm, noticing how your father was already but boney remains of himself.

This Halovian ancestry's secret... it served him no good.

Why was he born into this race and why wasn't he raised just like you?

"Watchmaker... How can I ever forgive myself for this...?"

How can he dare proclaim to mete out justice when he deserves to be served the same sentence? "Sunday" himself is a transgressor, unworthy of yielding Harmony's name.

What heathen he was, to partake in flesh and blood that was not for his stomach simply because they both smelled just like you. What heretic he was, to place anger and hunger above his better judgement.

What karma it was, to find out his sister has been killed in his moments of guilt.

What retribution it was, to face that what he had done to others, will be done unto him.

#ansy-writes #yandere sunday #tw: cannibalism #yandere fic #yandere hsr #yandere sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere headcanons

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causeilikelix · 10 months ago

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hii im the anon who sent the hard dom lixie post ,, and i totally think ur right !! i also feel after that event..hes a lil bit more touchy with u !! just to help get the point across

also idk if u take anons but just would love to be 🐹 anon if you do !! if not thats totally ok , im literally just eating up everything u post

omg hi!!! Yes, you can totally be 🐹 anon! I've never had one before tbh so welcome!!! The support means so much to me! tbh I wish I posted more lol but writers block exists.

Except for right now cause WOW

Part 2 to this ask, but it doesn't necessarily have to be read to understand this

MINORS DNI!!!! Smut under the cut! I............................ got carried away. Warnings under the cut

YES totally. Lix is already a pretty touchy-feely person so like you showing interest in him being a little more dominant and, dare I saw, possessive would really turn on the Clingy.

(banner credit @cafekitsune)

(Warnings: established relationship, dom!Felix?, dirty talk, semi public sex, unprotected sex (it's only fun in fiction), creampie, afab!reader)

This man needs all of his friends (and your friends) to know that you're his. Unless you ask him not to for whatever reason, Felix would mark you up every. time. I mean, first of all it feels amazing to have his lips on you. So pillowy and soft and the way he sucks on your neck is just heavenly!

Any time you hang out with his friends this man has his hands on you in one way or another. He's constantly back hugging you, holding your hand, cuddling with on the couch, whatever. Sometimes, he'd lean over and whisper the filthiest shit into your ear just to make you blush.

"You look so hot in this dress, baby. Who'd you wear it for?"

"I bet you'd love for me to bend you over the couch and take you right here, huh? Want the guys to see how well you take me."

"Sweet girl, I bet your soaked right now. I can practically smell you."

It doesn't take him long to convince you to either leave the gathering or sneak off to the bathroom with him. All of his dirty talk is, in fact, soaking through your underwear. That deep voice of his gets you every fucking time.

The other boys roll their eyes and turn up the music when Felix drags you back to the bathroom. The bass helps drown out the yelp that falls from your mouth the second Felix flips up the skirt of your dress to run his fingertips along the gusset of your panties. He moans into your mouth when he feels how wet you are.

"Filthy girl, I knew you were wet." He growls.

"You always make me wet." You grin at him

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath as he slips his fingers into your panties to touch you properly. You moan instantly at the contact. "Babe, you've gotta let me fuck you. I'm so hard I don't think I'll make it home."

"But the guys-'

"Don't pretend like you didn't love them listening in last time. I remember how tight your cunt clamped on to me when you heard them turn the TV off. C'mon baby, please. I need you so bad." Felix rocks his hips into yours a little and sure enough you can feel his hardness poking at your stomach. It makes your mouth water and your pussy clench at the thought of fucking him here.

"One condition." You whisper as he starts to press hot kisses into your neck. His fingers slide into your heat with no resistance and you choke back a moan.

"Anything."

"Don't pull out this time."

At this, he pulls away from you to look you in the eye. At first, you worry that he's going to pull away completely. The motions of his fingers inside you slow to a stop but he doesn't take them out. His eyebrows furrow.

"Are you serious?"

You'd talked about the risks before, and it wasn't like he hadn't done it before but it wasn't something super common in your relationship.

"Deadly serious." You gripped the back of his neck and pulled him in, "Don't you want us to go back out there to your friends, your cum dripping down my legs to show them once and for all that you're not as soft as they think you are?"

Felix's eyes darkened immediately.

"Ask and you shall receive, baby." He growled.

He grabbed your waist and roughly spun you around and bent you over the bathroom sink. Your panties are discarded around one ankle before he's nudging your legs apart. Excitement sparks through your bloodstream when you hear Felix messing with the button and zipper on his jeans.

A few moments later, something hot swipes through your folds. You moan as the head of his dick nudges against your clit a few times. He teases you by nudging your clit then moving up to press against your hole before taking it away to nudge your clit again.

You swear you've never been so empty in your life.

"Felix, I swear, if you don't fuck me right no- ah!" You let out a sudden moan when Felix finally pressed his cock into you. He suck in slowly, letting you feel every single inch. When his hips meet your ass, you moan again.

"Good girl, let them hear you. I knew you wanted to act like a little slut. You wanted me to fuck you where they could hear you, huh? Let everyone know how well you take cock" Felix moans, the noise going straight to your clit.

He always feels so good inside of you. It's like his cock was made to stretch you open. His thrusts are slow at first, getting you used to him despite how many times you've taken him. He pants against your neck and you rock back onto him.

"Fuck you feel so good, baby, your little cunt always takes me so well." Felix compliments, his hands kneading your ass and thighs. One hand circles up to brush through your folds. Your cunt clenches the second he finds your clit. "You're so tight! How is any of my cum going to fit inside you?"

You open your mouth to answer him but all that comes out is a moan. He rocks into you steadily and he circles your clit with two fingers. It isn't long before your thighs begin to tremble and the knot in your stomach pulls taut.

"Aw," he chides, "Are you gonna cum on my cock, beautiful? Come on, baby, cream for me, yeah?"

It doesn't take much else. It never does. Felix plays your body like an instrument. He always knows just where to touch, just what to say, just where to angle the head of his cock to get you to fall apart for him. You cum, squeezing him tightly. He moans through your orgasm, holding onto his own so he can ride yours out.

"Good girl," he praises, "Make a mess on my cock. When we get home I'll have you clean me up. Fuck! Pussy gets so tight when she cums."

If there's one thing Felix loves, it's feeling every single moment of your orgasm. The way your legs shake, the way your pussy quivers and tightens, the way your wetness leaves a shimmering sheen on his cock. He swears he can never get enough of you.

As your orgasm wanes, his thrusts speed up. He moans into your ear and every sound makes you clench. You wonder if you could cum again. His thrusts are quick and deep. Your pussy aches and throbs but in the best way possible. Overstimulation sparks through your veins, but part of you wonders if it's just another orgasm creeping up on you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm not gonna last. Tell me where you want me to cum. Now!" He threads a hand into your hair so he can tilt your head to see your fucked-out face. The drool seeping from your lips and your hooded eyes make his orgasm threaten to spill without warning.

"In-" A particularly harsh thrust makes you moan, "Inside. Please! Please cum inside. "

"So tight! Fuck, fuck, cumming!"

And he does. He pushes himself into you as deep as he possibly can and releases his orgasm right against your cervix. The warmth makes your cunt pulse and you reach down to rub your clit. A circle or two later, you fall into another orgasm that squeezes him to coax more of him into you.

Felix rocks his hips into you a few more times to unload every generous spurt of cum inside you before finally pulling out.

He puts his hands on your ass cheeks and spreads you open. You blush when you feel his eyes on your spent hole. You wait for the telltale feeling of some of the warmth in your cunt to slip out, but nothing does. After a minute, Felix lands a soft smack on your ass before pulling your panties back up your legs.

"Come on, I've got you." Felix coaxes you to stand up and turn back around. Your legs quiver and you hold onto him. "You held it all in, baby. Nothing's leaking out."

"Guess you'll have to give me some more to make sure it slides down my legs." You quip, even though you know you probably couldn't take more right now.

"Maybe next time, angel. This time I want you to make sure you keep every drop in there. I'll check later and if you've let a single drop go to waste, I'll give you refill after refill until you can't hold it anymore. " Felix's voice sent a shiver down your spine, "Think you can handle that?"

You're nodding and clenching your thighs before he's even done talking.

"Good girl."

#🐹 anon #an ask!#felix smut #yongbok smut #lee felix smut #skz felix smut #stray kids smut #ellie writes #skz smut #kpop smut #got carried away #enjoy lol #lee yongbok smut

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macbethsymphony · 5 months ago

Text

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 24

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 7k

Chapter rating: NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, SMUT

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 24: I'm Still Angry

On the first night, you’d drowned your thoughts in a haze of alcohol, seeking refuge in the oblivion it promised. On the second night, you’d danced with reckless abandon, losing yourself in the rhythmic pulse of the music until memories blurred into nothingness. And on the third night, exhaustion had claimed you, pulling you into a deep slumber that offered respite from the chaos of your mind… until the sound of music beckoned you to start the whole ritual once again.

Outside, the storm raged on, its fury unabated by the passage of time. But within the cozy confines of the tavern, the tempestuous winds and torrential rain faded into the background, drowned out by the lively chatter and infectious laughter of its patrons. In the warm glow of the lanterns, you found solace from the relentless onslaught of the elements and your thoughts.

You hadn't returned to the ship in over a week, your stubbornness fueling your determination to stay away. The idiot could fall on Yokubari and fucking go to hell, for all you cared, or so you kept on telling yourself. During this time, Nami had visited the tavern on a few occasions, indulging in a drink or two while checking up on you. Initially, concern had etched lines of worry on her face, evident in the way she probed for details about what had transpired between you and the swordsman. But when you remained unwilling to talk, she had simply sighed in resignation, accepting your silence with a weary understanding. She assured you that they would come to fetch you before they set sail again.

"So, what's your poison tonight?" The question cut through the din of the tavern, drawing your attention back to the present moment. Leaning against the worn wood of the bar, you regarded the boy with a half-smile, appreciating his easy charm and friendly demeanor.

He had been a constant presence over the past few days, a willing partner in the impromptu dance sessions that had become a nightly ritual. Together, you had spun and laughed, losing yourselves in the music and the fleeting moments of joy it brought. He was flirty but not pushy, making him perfect for whatever you were trying to achieve with this temper tantrum of yours.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he awaited your response, his expression a curious blend of anticipation and amusement. "I think I'll stick to water tonight," you confessed with a chuckle, your voice tinged with a hint of ruefulness. "I'm still feeling the aftermath of those drinking games from last night."

The boy laughed lightly, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. His flirty attempt was clunky, unpracticed. "Water it is then," he murmured, his tone playful yet colored with a sliver of disappointment. "But don't think you can escape me that easily. We've got some dancing to do, remember?"

You tossed your head back at his awkward charm, laughing heartily. Goodness, he never gave up. As you watched your dance partner come back with your drink, you noticed how he faltered in his step, how he blanched a little as he glanced over your shoulder.

You didn’t even need to look to guess what had unsettled the boy so, but still you stared at the swordsman effectively looming over you.

Oh.

He was angry.

Your eyes traveled from his face to the swords at his side, landing on Yokubari, still strapped at his waist. You scowled, the blazing anger within you refueled at the sight. The urge to throttle him still unbelievably strong. Didn’t matter, two could play this game, your own fury not to be underestimated.

With a scoff, you turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of your hand. “I don’t feel like talking to you, swordsman,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disdain as you refused to give him any more of your attention.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the boy, sensing the tension between you and Zoro, hesitated in his approach. His easy smile faltered, replaced by a nervous unease as he quickly retreated, eager to avoid becoming collateral damage in whatever confrontation was brewing between the two of you.

Smart boy. You’d do the same if you were in his place.

Sighing, you leaned against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention with a practiced gesture. The need for an actual drink abruptly urgent. “You didn’t have to chase him away like that,” you admonished, your tone thick with irritation. “He was a perfectly fine dance partner.”

Silence answered you as you heard the subtle shift of cloth and clink of swords behind you as he matched your movements.

When the bartender inevitably ignored you too, suddenly engrossed in polishing a glass, you turned to face him. “What do you want?” you snapped, your expression a mask of defiance, resolute to not let him ruin your night.

His frown deepened, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm grip that bordered on possessive. “We’re going back to the ship,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You paused there for an instant, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. “No,” you decided as you wrenched your hand free from his grasp and strode purposefully towards the dance floor, determined to assert your independence in the face of his domineering shit of an attitude.

You sensed Zoro's presence trailing behind you for a moment, his looming shadow casting a palpable weight in the midst of his annoyance, then not anymore. Ignoring his silent disapproval, you surrendered to the pulsating rhythm of the music, allowing it to guide your movements to the center of the crowd with instinctive grace. Drawn into the embrace of a stranger, you yielded to the seductive sway of the tune, granting the man’s touch to travel sensually along the curves of your body.

With each spin and turn, the stranger's hands ventured boldly, taunting the fabric of your shirt upwards to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. He twirled you around, allowing your back to fall against his chest, as his fingers roamed in a slow, teasing display.

On any other day, you would have slapped the inquisitive touch away but on this night the nerve of his exploration served the audacity of your actions. You met the swordsman’s stare with a lidded gaze. Was that fury you saw flashing in his eye? Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was that twisting up his pretty face, it felt like a victory.

With a wicked grin, you yielded into the stranger's touch, inviting the tension to mount between you and the swordsman with each passing moment. You thrived on the satisfaction. The air hummed with unspoken defiance, a silent dare for Zoro to break his stoic façade.

The stranger's touch ventured further, his hand gliding from your stomach to your chest, his palm flat as he pressed against the fabric of your shirt before encircling your throat with a gentle yet possessive hold. Tilting your head back against his shoulder, you maintained eye contact with the swordsman, relishing the simmering intensity in his furious stare.

As the tension between you reached a crescendo, you observed with satisfaction as Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of one of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. The air crackled with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken challenge that hung between you like a tautly drawn bowstring.

With a subtle shift in your stance, you silently dared Zoro to make a move. The stranger's touch remained a seductive invitation, a quiet provocation that dared the swordsman to act on his impulses.

And then, the tension shattered like glass.

With a swift, fluid motion, Zoro's hand inched away from the hilt of his sword, his steps carrying him across the crowded floor in a determined stride. Ignoring the curious glances of the tavern's patrons, he closed the distance between you with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he reached you, he grabbed your arm firmly but not roughly, pulling you away from the stranger's embrace with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. The stranger's hand fell from your throat, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation as he watched the swordsman stake his claim.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted at him as you followed his lead.

Without a word, Zoro led you away from the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, his grip tightening as he guided you through the maze of tables and chairs. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his silent declaration hanging heavily between you.

As you emerged into the cool night air, the storm still raging overhead, the wind tousled your hair, rain slowly drenching your clothes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You shouted again, planting your feet down, obstinate anger filling you, refusing to budge.

Zoro’s expression remained flat; his jaw clenched in stubborn determination. “We’re going back to the ship,” he stated firmly.

You scoffed incredulously; the sound drowned out by the howling wind. “Like hell we are,” you retorted, your noncompliance unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you, swordsman.”

For a moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent standoff, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain of defiance. The tension crackled in the air, thick with unspoken words.

Fuck, he was stunning. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him. Your eyes surveyed his face, taking in the scowl on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.

He moved with swift determination, pinning you against the slick brick wall. The freezing rain seeped through your already soaked clothes, but you paid it no mind amidst the brewing confrontation.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” you snapped, glaring up at him, defiance flashing in your stare.

“You’re infuriating,” he growled, leaning in close, his breath mingling with yours in the damp air.

“I’m still angry,” you declared, your brows furrowing with stubborn resolve.

“So am I,” he admitted, his hand traveling up to cradle the nape of your neck.

“You have no business being angry at me, swordsman,” you retorted, your tone sharp with wrath.

Despite the intensity of the storm raging around you, the charged atmosphere between you and Zoro crackled with an energy of its own. His grip tightened slightly, fingers tangling in your hair, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“You always make it so damn difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation.

“Me?” you scoffed, index pushing repeatedly into his chest painfully. “You're the one wh—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, silencing your protest with a searing passion. At first, you froze, then you matched his intensity, finding yourself responding to his movements with an equal measure of neediness, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair roughly as you pulled him closer.

His fingers traveled under your shirt, his touch scorching hot against the coolness of wet skin. You backed off searching for breath. Your eyes met his, the hunger in his gaze made your knees want to buckle a definite want settling in your core.

Fuck.

With a firm push, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he yielded to your lead. As he took a step back, your hand found the hem of his sleeve, a determined look in your eyes as you started to move, dragging him through the winding maze of alleyways. Each turn was swift and decisive, your footsteps echoing against the forming puddles in the dips of the cobblestones as you navigated the labyrinthine paths with resolute haste, your destination clear in your mind.

Without a word, you pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hotel you’d been staying at, the warmth of the lobby enveloping you in a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside rain. The flickering glow of the lanterns cast dancing shadows upon the walls as you beelined to your room.

The swordsman hovered over you, placing soft kisses on your neck as you fumbled to unlock the door.

The lock clicked. You entered. In the sanctuary of your room, his hands grew bolder in their exploration, your shirt dragging dangerously high, the hem of your short skirt catching on your hips in a barely decent display.

“Shit,” you mewled, one of your hands finding purchase on the flat surface before you, nails digging in the wood as you tried to lock the door behind you. “Just let me lock the door,” you begged as he nipped at your neck, licked your ear.

He ignored your pleas, his body melting against yours, trapping you more firmly against him. His hand traveled against your thigh, traced the soft flesh near your core, his hips catching into yours. Your forehead met the wood of the door as the pads of his fingers found your soaked underwear, tracing light circles.

You moaned. Mind feeling empty as a wave of pleasure coursed through your veins.

He brought your hips tighter against his as his touch became rougher. He deftly pushed aside the drenched fabric, pads meeting your slick. Everything felt more intense all of a sudden, the embers of ecstasy unmuted as he explored relentlessly.

His name passed your lips in a high whine. He moaned against your ear, hips unwillingly bucking into yours. Fuck. You could feel how hard he was.

The lock finally clicked. You turned around. His lips found yours immediately in a primal urgency.

“The bed’s right there,” you mewled, your words breathy.

He kissed your jaw, down your neck. “Don’t care,” he said as one of his hands pushed up your shirt, your bra, fingers tracing the curve of your breast, pinching almost tenderly at your nipple.

“We should wash up first,” you protested meekly, your fists bunching in the wet fabric of his overcoat, movements contradicting your objections.

“Don’t care,” he repeated breath mingling with yours. He bit at your lower lip, tongue darting in, exploring, demanding.

You obliged, hands discovering his chest, never settling in one place.

As you broke away for air, he leaned back, his hungry gaze meeting yours. He smirked, taking in the want in your eyes, your bruised lips, the flush on your cheeks. He backed off a step, eye roaming over your body, searing in the image before him in his mind, the way your skirt was hiked up, the way the wet fabric of your shirt clung to your skin as you leaned against the door.

“Fuck,” he groaned. You were the very picture of depravity.

He fell to his knees, pressed a kiss on the front of your underwear as his hands traced up along your outer thighs. As his fingers curled against the lace of your panties, he looked up at you, a soft pause as he searched your features for any hint of hesitation.

The crystal-clear need etched on your face gave him all the confirmation he needed. He trailed the thin piece of fabric down. It caught for a moment on your knee-high boot as you lifted one leg to help him out.

Before you could put your foot down, his hand wrapped under your knee, bringing your leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head on your inner thigh, cheek against soft flesh before placing slow kisses, tender bites as he made his way toward your heat.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling painfully on the unruly locks, nails digging into his scalp, backing him away. He looked up at you, a groan escaping him at the sensation. There was clear satisfaction in his gaze.

“Look at you, witch,” his voice was gruff, tick with lust.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a moan out your lips. You felt some of your slick drip on your thigh, cool against flushed skin. Heat spread across your face at the reaction of your body.

“I’m still angry,” you whispered as he started moving closer, one of his hands exploring up and down your outer thigh, the other dragging your skirt higher, before dipping down, fingers tracing your slit.

His grin broke into a smile as he brought them to his mouth, the light glistening on their wetness. He made a show of licking them clean. Tongue swirling, sucking against the digits before his lips came back to your inner thigh.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” he apologized dangerously close to your core, his breath teasing, your legs feeling less and less steady as seconds passed. “Forgive me.”

You whined his name, a hopelessly needy sound.

Finally, finally, he met your heat, giving you no time to adjust to the relentless rhythm of his onslaught. His tongue pressed against your clit as he devoured you with the hunger of a man deprived of water, each lick and suck a desperate quenching of his thirst.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, the world feeling like a hazy dream in between the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. Your fingers tightened in the unruly locks, nails digging into the flesh at his nape as your hips bucked unwittingly.

He moaned against you, the muffled sound sending electric shocks through you. His hold on your thigh increased, anchoring you solidly against his shoulder as his nails left crescent marks in the plush flesh. His other hand went to your core, lifting the hood of your clit slightly as he redoubled his efforts.

Your eyes shot open at the sensation, breath catching in your throat. It was all too much, the pleasure cascading over your mind too sharp. One of your hands snapped away from his hair, clamping over your mouth, muffling the high-pitched scream that passed your lips. The back of your head hit the wood behind you loudly, the pain barely registering.

Your gaze met his, you sensed the satisfied smirk gracing his lips more than you saw it. He moved away from your clit, exploring. His tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers taking on the bundle of nerves instead.

You were about to come, your vision starting to feel overexposed, everything swirling around you. You tried to warn him, your words incoherent.

He maintained his rhythm, allowing you to tip over the edge, white overflowing your senses.

He continued tirelessly, your thigh trembling against his shoulder. You attempted to pry him off, but he remained doggedly obstinate in his ministrations.

You bit down painfully on your palm as your mind wrestled to keep up with the overstimulation. Your breath hitched and struggled with every inhale and exhale.

“Too much,” you begged, voice high, the sound muffled by your hand as a second orgasm coursed through you, tears threatening to flood your eyes.

He stopped then, waiting for your grip to loosen in his hair before coming back up. His chin was covered in your arousal. He pried your hand away from your mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the teeth marks etched in your skin before his lips found yours.

His movements were slow at first, allowing your mind to catch up. Then his tongue met yours in a forceful dance, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth.

Your knees buckled. Your fists bunched in his overcoat in an attempt to steady yourself but you still felt your back start to drag down against the door, your legs unable to keep you up.

His hands went behind your thighs, pulling you in his arms effortlessly. You melted in his chest, limbs uncooperative before he deposited you onto the bed.

As your back sank into the softness of the mattress, your eyes landed on the swordsman skillfully maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Shoes,” you muttered as your gaze went to your boots.

He grumbled a curse under his breath, bringing your other leg to his shoulder so both feet were next to one another. “Always so fucking demanding,” he complained, words barely audible as with one hand he tugged at the laces of your boots, the other going to your cunt, two fingers entering your heat.

The squelching sound of your arousal as he fingered you was obscene. Lazy whimpers escaped you as they easily slipped in and out, the hazy feeling in your mind delightful. He suddenly curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, eliciting a loud moan out of you, the promise of rapture starting to edge at your vision once more.

“Zoro,” you begged between moans, his name flowing out of your lips again and again, a deprived chant.

He finished loosening the laces of the first boot, taking it off roughly and throwing it back without care. You dimly heard it hit something but it barely reached the edge of your mind, your attention entirely focused on the shifts of his fingers.

The pad of his thumb met your clit gently, teasing as he started unlacing the second boot.

You bucked under his touch, walls fluttering against his fingers.

His hand moved against the laces with sudden urgency, tugging harder and faster with each pull as he hurried through the process.

The second boot joined the other. You whined in protest as he left your heat. He opened your legs, settling himself between them.

You pushed yourself to your elbows, then sitting as you took off your shirt, your bra. Your bodies almost touched in the position, your legs draped over his thighs, warmth radiating from your skin, melting into his own.

You leaned back slightly, his gaze unabashedly took in the sight. His fingers skillfully unknotted the cords holding the swords at his side. There was a loud clang as they fell to the floor forgotten, his overcoat and stomach band following suit with urgency.

His hands grazed up your thighs, nails digging in and sending shivers to your core. He leaned in, his lips hovering ever so close over yours.

Your hand palmed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. You looked up at him, pupils blown in desire.

The moan that escaped him was pure lust, primal as his breath mixed with yours.

It stirred something in you. You ached to see him writhe under your touch, hear that moan again, make him whimper.

“Let me return the favor,” you demanded, fingers moving up and down, groping before inching towards the waistband of his pants.

His hand intercepted yours roughly. “Not today,” he kissed your jaw, down your throat. “Can’t wait,” he muttered after giving your nipple a flick with his tongue.

He pushed you down, your back meeting the mattress in a small bounce. You rolled your hips against his, your arousal leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. You felt his canine graze your breast as he relished the feeling, followed by a soft bite and his tongue as he sucked and marked.

“Then just fuck me already, swordsman,” you demanded.

He smirked against your skin. “So needy,” he remarked, pulling back, his hands departing from you as he undid his pants, his aching cock meeting your stomach.

He moved one of your legs expertly to his shoulder, fingers finding the scar near your ankle, tenderly tracing circles against it. Your other leg instinctively wrapped around his hip.

His gaze was filled with lust as he met yours. You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance. His lips went to the white line marking your skin in a soft kiss as he started sinking into you.

You whimpered as he dragged in further, the pace tortuously slow. Your fingers tangled in the sheets in ecstasy. The stretch was overwhelming, intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, biting down on the flesh above your ankle, leaving small red marks behind. “So fucking tight.”

You tried to roll your hips, take him in quicker but his hand stopped the movement, stilling you in a bruising hold.

By the time he was fully sheathed inside you, you were breathing hard, your walls already fluttering against him. He gave a tentative thrust, nails digging into the plushness of your hips before he dragged a hand to your lower stomach, increasing the pressure as he filled you oh so well.

He was so deep, it almost made your eyes roll. You could feel your breasts bounce with every slow thrust. For a moment you saw him admire the view but his gaze inevitably returned to your face as he relished each twitch of pleasure passing your features far more than anything else.

There was a furrow on his brow as he searched for something, his hand moving your leg, opening you up, trying to find a certain angle. You let out a sharp cry as a particular thrust made you see stars.

“Zoro,” you whined, one of your hands extending towards him, “fuck,” he was just out of reach, you wanted to touch him so bad. You let your hand fall, instead joining his for an instant on your stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He slid out to the tip and slammed back in, his pace increasing now that he had found what he was searching for.

Your hand fell back to the covers at the intensity of his movements, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. His palm roamed up from your stomach, roughly groping as he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, his breath mingling with yours suddenly. His fingers settled on your neck, then your jaw as he bit your lower lip, and kissed you hard.

As he pulled back, his gaze blown with lust followed the strand of saliva connecting the two of you. “How long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he passed his thumb harshly on your reddened lips. “Just so you know, I’m only starting, witch.”

A smirk danced on your features at the boldness of his words, a chuckle escaping you, as though he wasn’t already fucking you senseless. You rolled your hips, meeting his rhythm. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, swordsman,” you retorted, the defiance in your stare igniting a spark in his eye, a challenge he was willing to see through.

In answer, his hand left your face, settled itself between your bodies, finding your clit in soft circles. Your back arched in pleasure, your hands flying to his arms, fingers looking for purchase. Incoherent swears passed your lips, your nails dug in, dragged along his arms. The pain mixing in with the pleasure earning you a loud groan on his part.

You dimly caught the sound of the bed creak with each of his thrusts, the way the headboard slammed on the wall now and then, but you didn’t care, the ecstasy washing over you making you forget all sense of propriety.

Your words were incomprehensible as he brought you nearer and nearer to the edge. Closer to desperate pleas and wanton moans than coherent sentences. Your whole body tensed hard as you orgasmed, a soft flush spread across your chest.

You heard him swear under his breath as your walls clenched around him but he didn’t stop as your mind struggled to come back. He suddenly turned you over, his thighs trapping yours. His hands found your hips, holding them up bruisingly. The moan you let out as he slid inside you again was so depraved that he almost came right there.

Your face dug in the covers, drool seeping in the fabric, nails digging hard in the soft weave. You heard threads snap as you writhed. He felt so deep. Your toes curled in pleasure. It was all too much, you were already so damned over sensitive.

“Shit, so good for me,” his hands palmed your ass roughly, velvety skin yielding under calloused fingers. His touch was domineering as it traveled along the curve of your back, pushing up your skirt, still bunched around your waist.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades, inch toward your neck, fingers tangling harshly in your locks for a fleeting moment. Then he grasped your arm, pulling you up easily, his arm snaking around you, his palm flat against your sweat covered skin as his hand moved up encircling your throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. Your hands instinctively settled on his forearm for support as you struggled to keep up.

The sound of wet slapping skin, the squelch as he drilled into you intensified in the position. His hand traveled up almost tenderly, cupping your face, turning you to him. His lips captured yours lazily, one of your hands shifted away from his arm, navigating to his nape, fingers tangling in his unruly hair.

The hand on your hip roamed down, fingers finding your clit. You spasmed and begged at the blitz of sensations. Thighs trembling, there was nothing you could do but hang on for dear life, your nails digging painfully in his forearm, in his neck as his pace fastened.

Your name passed his lips. “One more for me,” he pleaded, hot breath mixing with yours before biting hard on your shoulder.

“Please, Zoro, fuck,” you sobbed in pleasure as you felt your orgasm rapidly build up.

His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken by your pleas. “Where do you want me to cum?” the urgency in his voice was apparent as he breathed out the question.

“In-inside,” you begged over and over.

He groaned at that, the idea clearly pleasing to him. “Shit,” his thrusts were sloppy, his hold on your body harder. “So fucking perfect for me.”

With a particularly hard flick on your clit, your mind went blank, body hard then limp, entirely supported by the swordsman’s strength as rapture filled you.

He kissed and marked you almost painfully as you came down from your high, walls spasming sporadically around him. He swore emphatically, your name uttered between each curse, before emptying out inside you, his loud moans muffled against your skin.

His movements gradually slowed. He placed a fond kiss on your shoulder, and you whimpered as he pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your thigh. He lowered you gently on the bed, following you as he dropped himself next to you.

Lying there in the aftermath, a sense of weightlessness enveloped you, leaving your mind blissfully devoid of thought. His arm rested heavily on your stomach, the sensation of damp skin against damp skin a tactile reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. Gradually, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With a tenderness that caught you off guard, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before trailing along your jawline. You watched him, a puzzled furrow creasing your brow, as he rose from the bed with a quiet grunt, pulling up his pants, still pooled around his ankles, before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"You said we should wash up," he grumbled in response, the sound of running water punctuating his words.

An amused snort escaped you. "Now? Really, Zoro?" You attempted to roll over, but your muscles felt weak, and you slumped back down in defeat.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his features as he observed your futile attempt.

"Having some trouble?" he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he stalked to your side, the bed dipping under his weight as he settled himself between your legs. If you weren't so fucked out, the smugness in his tone might have elicited an eye roll, but instead, a small chuckle escaped your lips at his comment.

One of his hands went behind your knee, opening you up for him. The other went to your slit, a sharp hiss escaping your lips at the over sensitivity. His fingers traced the seed dripping out of you.

He swore under his breath, his gaze blown out as he met your eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” you breathed out in a high-pitched whine, your hips arching away. “I’m too sensitive.”

His hand left your heat, slick fingers dragging up your thighs, bunching in the skirt still gathered at your waist.

He hummed in consideration, evidently wrestling with himself. "How do you take this off?" he asked, hovering uncertainly over the fabric of the waistband.

The smile that hit your lips was genuine as you looked at him. "The zipper's on the side, you moron," you replied, pointing lazily to the concealed closure.

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on your lips as his fingers grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down. His touch lingered on your skin, the kiss deepening. His name escaped you in a soft warning, prompting him to pull back, his lips parting from yours as he guided the fabric off, gently lifting your hips.

Gathering you into his arms, he held you close. "What's with all the tenderness, swordsman?" you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his neck. "I thought you only knew direct approaches."

"Careful, witch," he said, his tone somehow serious as he teased, his hands squeezing plush flesh as he buried his face in your hair. "If you keep this up, I'm bringing you back to bed."

Before you could offer a witty response, he gracefully lowered you into the welcoming embrace of the bathwater. Instantly, warmth enveloped you, coaxing the tension from your weary muscles. With a contented sigh, you reclined against the edge of the tub, allowing the soothing heat to work its magic.

As you relaxed, your gaze drifted to Zoro, who was now bending down to unlace his boots. The soft glow of the bathroom accentuated the contours of his muscular arms, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his skin. You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your features as you looked at the red marks plaguing his chest, his biceps. In that moment, he was nothing short of stunning, having you trapped and entranced as he undid his pants, kicked them off along with his boots.

“Scoot,” he demanded with a cock of his head, his earrings glinting in the movement.

You raised a brow at his tone but still you obliged, shifting over. The water rose around you as Zoro settled in behind you, his presence adding to the comforting embrace of the bath.

As he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, you didn’t resist as you backed into his hold, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that surrounded you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby, calming your mind for a flicker of an instant.

For a while, you simply reveled in the blissful stillness of the moment, the only sound the soft murmur of the water as his hand traced up and down your arm in a mindless pattern and the quiet exhales of contentment that escaped you.

“About Yokubari,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, laden with uncertainty.

You felt him tense behind you, his fingers coming to a halt. His lips brushed against the skin near your ear, a delicate, repentant gesture. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, his apology scarcely audible over the pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop.

You paused, grappling with the words on the tip of your tongue. “I won't deny that I'm still furious with you, Zoro,” you confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “But it wasn’t all you. I was tired and scared, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have left you alone with Yokubari like that, it was irresponsible on my part.”

There was a beat of silence, his lips trailing down your neck, over your shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left moments ago. His arms slid from the bath’s edge, sinking into the water and wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice grumbly and muffled against your skin. “You were right, I lost myself for an instant.”

You weren’t certain what it was you wanted to say, so you stayed quiet for a while. “Did you at least figure it out?” You asked eventually.

One of his hands traveled up from your stomach tracing the curve of your breast, playing with your nipple absentmindedly. The other went to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh, his thumb moving in light circles. You felt his teeth sink in your neck.

“I figured out what I needed to,” he muttered halfheartedly as he kissed the bite mark tenderly.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. You let your head fall on his chest as you looked up at him.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You pressed, your voice tinged with apprehension.

Zoro's grip tightened around you, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I meant... I learned enough to control it, to keep it from consuming me," he explained, his tone imbued with a mixture of reluctance and determination. "But whether I've completely figured it out... I haven’t." He paused, his gaze searching yours before he continued. "I tried figuring it out on the day you left but I haven’t touched it since. It felt wrong to handle it without you there. I gave you my word. I should have kept it better."

His hand traveled up, wrapping around your throat for a moment before turning your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re an idiot, swordsman,” your breath mingled with his.

His lips curved into a wry smile against yours, his grip gentle yet possessive as he deepened the kiss, seeking solace and reassurance in the warmth of your embrace. You sank into him, the tension of the past few days melting away with each caress, each shared breath.

“I am,” he admitted. His touch left your face, going back to your breast with more purpose, his hand inched towards your heat once again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“And you’re insatiable,” you complained in a whine, one of your hands flying to the bath’s edge to find purchase, the other settled on his leg at your side, nails digging hard.

His fingers met your core, opened you up, “I know,” he said with satisfaction dripping in his tone at the reaction of your body.

Bonus scene:

Roronoa Zoro found himself facing the consequences of his actions. The realization dawned on him that he had indeed messed up…bad. He hadn’t anticipated you staying away for so long—a thought that seemed absurd now as he reflected on it. With closed eyes, he furrowed his brow, attempting to will himself to sleep, though slumber had eluded him ever since you departed. His jaw clenched, the memory of the hurt in your eyes flickered behind his eyelids, haunting him relentlessly.

The abrupt slam of the door shattered the fragile peace of his solitude, and he fought the instinct to flinch, hoping to be left alone a moment more.

“Good, you’re awake,” Nami stated, her perceptive gaze cutting through his feigned slumber. “Follow me.”

He reluctantly cracked an eye open, a scowl of irritation etching his features. “I’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled, but the determined look in Nami’s stare made him concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

“Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly rising to his feet.

His footsteps stopped in front of the establishment, the realization of what Nami was trying to achieve downing on him. Had he known that the navigator was going to drag him all the way to you, he would have undoubtedly put up more of a fight. He tried to turn away but her hand grabbed him hard, pulling him with her.

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up,” Nami urged, shoving him through the doorway of the bar. “I don’t know what you did, but apologize.”

With a pat on the back, she left him standing there, her words echoing in his mind.

He sighed, shifting uncertainly in the entryway, his gaze surveying the small, cozy space. Inevitably, he spotted you, leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation with someone he couldn’t quite see, a soft smile gracing your lips.

If he were honest, he had had every intention of apologizing in that moment. However, as he watched the young man lean closer to you, an unfamiliar pang of jealousy stirred within him. Rationality reminded him that you didn’t belong to him; you were your own person. Yet, as he witnessed the intimacy of the gesture, heard the clear din of your laughter ring through the chatter of the room, his frustration boiled dangerously. The countless apologies he had rehearsed over the past few days evaporated from his mind as he stormed to your side.

You had willfully ignored him from the moment you noticed his presence, your fury towards him still evident in the fire of your eyes. He sensed his own annoyance doubling at his inability to know how to handle the situation.

Yet, as your angry gaze had met his, he felt a rush of emotions flood over him—a mixture of longing and regret.

Damn it.

In the soft glow of the lanterns, you looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wanted nothing more than to pin you to that bar and kiss you dizzy. You snapped something at him, but he couldn't quite register the words amidst the whirlwind of unknown reactions coursing through him.

Before you could escape him again, he grasped your hand. A possessive hold that was unlike him.

“We’re going back to the ship,” He said, his voice feeling far away, as though it was someone else’s. Hell, even he realized how ridiculous he sounded when the words left his lips.

Fuck.

He didn’t even know how to get back to the ship.

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Masterlist

#the swordsman and the blacksmith #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #charlou writes

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 2 years ago

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Don't ever scare me like that again...

Ahhhhh I'm having Floyd angst thoughts and need everyone to see them

Warning(s): mentions of drowning, reader almost dies, general angst (with a happy ending though :) )

Of course dating Floyd Leech was hard sometimes. He has little-to-no self control, is prone to mood swings, and will straight-up not do things if he views them as boring.

But despite that, you love him. He's wonderful, even if he does sometimes ask rather... morbid... questions about humans.

He gave you the best hugs when you were sad. It was very comforting. He was the first person you'd go to when you were panicking.

One night, as the two of you were cuddling in bed, Floyd asked you something you didn't expect.

"Hey, Shrimpy... what does it feel like to drown...?"

"Huh? What brought this on all of the sudden?" You asked.

"I'm just wondering." Floyd responded. "Y'know, since I'm a merman, I can never know what that feels like... so... what does it feel like?"

"Well, I've never experienced it before, but from what I've heard it's... scary. And painful, too." You explain. "At first you try to hold your breath... and when that fails, the water rushes into your nose and mouth as you try to breathe... there's a really bad burning feeling in your chest when the water enters your lungs. Besides that, though, it's kinda peaceful." You explained.

"So... you're in pain when drowning...?"

"Yeah, apparently it hurts a lot."

Floyd suddenly tightened his grip on you. As if something was threatening to take you away from him.

"Can I tell you something...?" He whispered. "I... drowned a human once. Accidentally. When I was a child, waaaaaaay before I knew that humans can't breathe underwater." He sighed. "Life under the sea is rough. The child mortality rate is waaaaay higher than it is on land. Jade and I had a buncha other siblings when we were hatched, but by the time we were four, it was only us two left. Not to mention that the two of us weren't even given proper names until we were six years old." Floyd explained to you, pausing for a moment before continuing. "I was a bit desperate for any kind of interaction as a child... and one day, I met a human... and one day, I wanted to show him the world under the sea. Mom was horrified when she saw me dragging a dead human around with me, haha... that night we had land meat for dinner, and I never really pieced together what it was until recently."

"You... killed someone...?" You asked, unsettled.

"Please don't hate me, Shrimpy..." He buried his face in your chest. "I don't want you to hate me. The truth is, I'm scared of you disappearing. I know I was just a stupid kid who didn't know humans could drown, but... what if something happens to you? What if it slips my mind that humans can't breathe water, and you're... gone...? Forever...?"

"Aw, you really care about me, huh?" You sweetly asked. His grip on you tightened again, not enough to hurt, but noticably tighter than before. "Well don't worry. I'll never disappear, I promise."

"I'll never disappear, I promise."

You can't just break your promise like this! You can't, it's just not fair!

He could feel your grip on his shoulders loosening as he swam as fast as he possibly could towards the shore.

"Floyd... I-I'm cold..." You managed to say.

He didn't know what to say to you. What can he do to comfort you in what might be your last moments? Say everything will be fine? Just lie to you?

"Just hang on, ok? I'll get you to shore, and I'll get a nice warm blanket for you, ok Shrimpy~?"

"A-a-alright..." He could feel you trembling and shivering from how cold the water was to you. Your breathing was slowing.

When he reached the shore, you were clearly not doing well.

"Wake up, Shrimpy!" He demanded. "We're here, we made our way to the shore, ok?? So wake up! Don't you dare freeze, (Y/N)! It's not even that cold! S-so you can't freeze, you can't die!!"

You reached up, and placed your hand on his slimy wet face.

"I... l-love you..."

That's the last thing you remember from that night.

You wake up to the harsh lights and undeniable smell of a hospital.

"You're awake!"

Floyd kissed you on the lips the moment he realized you were alive.

"I'm so glad you're ok, Shrimpy..." He squeezed you tightly, but of course making sure he didn't hurt you. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, got it...?"

"Got it..." You laughed to yourself under your breath.

"Don't laugh. I was seriously worried for you, Shrimpy...!" He told you. "You could've died, you know that? You were really close to freezing to death."

"Yeah, I know." You returned his hug, your arms still slightly trembling.

The two of you sat there in silence, jusr sort of holding onto each other.

"Hey, Floyd?"

"Hm?"

"...thanks for saving me." You whispered to him.

Floyd didn't respond, but you could tell he was content with how this all turned out.

#it's 1am so i hope this is good lol #floyd leech #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader

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rea-grimm · 10 months ago

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Vampire Law pt 1

You suspected that Law was more than just an ordinary person with special powers. Although he attributed it all to devil fruit, your intuition told you otherwise.

You sailed with the Heart Pirates and could proudly say that you were a part of the crew. The life of piracy was wonderful, but it wasn't the main reason you joined the pirates.

That reason was the captain. Your paths have crossed several times before when you helped each other. At first, it was just a help, but gradually you started to miss the pirate and you looked forward to your meeting more and more.

Something drew you to him and gradually you realized that you had a crush on him and wanted to spend more time with him. Although you only had eyes for him and maybe that's why you didn't see that he also had feelings for you.

You had each other's backs and the whole crew knew about you and shipped you two. Neither of you knew how much the other wanted you to finally get together.

You were in the kitchen preparing something small to eat when you decided to prepare something for Law as well. Once again he was busy with studies and research and forgot about the world around him and his own needs.

You made him some onigiri that you knew he liked and took them to his study room along with a drink. You knocked before walking in and placing his tray of food next to the papers.

“A little something to boost you up,” you smiled at him. Law thanked you before taking the onigiri and eating. However, he stopped after a few bites. He stopped chewing and you could see he was thinking.

"Don't you like them?" you asked worriedly. Have you messed up? Your question snapped him out of his thoughts and he immediately assured you they were delicious before taking another bite.

You wanted to be there with him for a while, spend at least a few minutes together, when there was a bang in the submarine. You were on your feet instantly and so was Law.

"I'll check it out. Get some rest and don't overdo it,” you smiled at him before leaving to find out what the others were up to.

Law listened and took another bite. He didn't understand what was happening. The onigiri tasted great. Actually, like everything you prepared for him. However, he had the impression that he was not satisfied at all. However, he didn't make much of it, as it could have been tiring.

Law was having dinner together with everyone after a long time. You finished your meal and noticed that he barely touched his food. He ate a little, but not much. Instead, he drank constantly. It was already the umpteenth glass that he drank to the bottom.

You were about to fill him up when he took the bottle from you and almost desperately drank it all at once. As soon as the bottle was empty he took a breath and wiped his chin.

“Be careful so you don't drown,” you said jokingly, but you were starting to worry about him. Law didn't answer that for you. His thoughts were completely elsewhere again and he was frowning.

He didn't think so either. Even though he drank the entire bottle, he was still thirsty, even though his stomach protested that it couldn't handle more water.

The food did not satisfy him, and the unquenchable thirst. He wasn't stupid, he knew very well what the symptoms were, but he didn't understand why they appeared to him only now.

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he got up and left for the study. He needed to verify something, and especially if he was right, he didn't want to hurt anyone unintentionally.

You were worried about him and you could see that everyone else was just as surprised as you were. You decided to go check on him just to be sure. Sure, he had his secrets, but he never acted like this.

You walked up to the study room and knocked on the door. However, you didn't wait for an invitation and went straight inside. Law was sitting in a chair, his head in his hands, and he didn't look very well.

"Law, what's wrong? You don't look good,” and you walked over to him. You were about to take his hand when he smirked at you.

"Leave me alone. Get out!” he snapped at you. He was your captain, you should have obeyed him, but you simply couldn't leave him alone when he was struggling.

“Not until you tell me how I can help,” you replied stubbornly. "Nobody is here. You can confide in me. You know I won't tell anyone,” you tried to soften him up.

Law gave you a look that gave you chills. You felt like you knew all his expressions, but this was something new. You took a step back when everything suddenly happened too quickly for your liking.

You had no idea when Law got up, but he took your hands and pinned you to the ground. He was straddled over you, one hand holding your wrist above your head, the other supporting himself and bending over your neck.

Only now did you notice how his eyes were red. It was a shock compared to his original grey eyes it was a shock. He looked like a wild animal that had been starving for weeks and had now caught its prey.

“Law!” you tried to talk him, get out of his grip, but it was like trying to move a rock. His mouth was open in which you could see a set of sharp canines. He was panting heavily and slowly leaned against your neck.

“Law!” you screamed louder as his teeth touched your neck. You started to struggle again, calling his name, your voice slowly growing in desperation.

“Law…” This time your voice was weaker as you had the feeling that he wouldn't hear you anyway. He was completely deaf to you. It was only a matter of time before he bit you.

However, nothing came of it and you looked at him hesitantly. He looked like he was fighting with himself and was even shaking. In an instant, your eyes met and Law let go of you and pulled away.

“Get out!” he gritted out through gritted teeth. His hands were clenched into fists

"I'll bring you something..." despite all that, you wanted to help. Maybe get me something to calm down or something.

“Just. Get. Out!” and he sounded even more in pain than before, but also much more desperate. You didn't say anything more, just looked at him worriedly before walking away.

When you disappeared from the room, he groaned in pain. He got up and locked the door. He never knew that his bloodlust would be so strong that he would lose control.

During dinner it still worked, the scents mingled there and he somehow managed to concentrate. But when you came to him, all he could smell was your scent, and his predatory instincts took over.

All he had to think about was you. Your scent, your voice, your skin under which he could feel the blood pulsating. He shook his head, he had to concentrate because as he started to think about you, his mouth began to water. He needed to learn to control it.

Every time he thought he got his thirst under control, you walked past the study hall and he was back to zero. He had to control himself not to break the door and jump at your throat.

PT 2

Law Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #vampire law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #bloodlust

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago

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Breathe me in

requested: Can you please write a story where Azriel saves reader from drowning. +I added a little mission and reader being a badass.

warning: drowning, blood, injuries.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As you made your way through the never-ending wall of rain, you started to wonder why all of you insisted that it was a great idea to continue the mission Rhys had given you today. The high lord warned you about the potential storm, and even if he didn't, you only needed to give the sky a look to know that it was bad news. But you went on with it, and now that your clothes were fully drenched, you wondered why you agreed after all.

Cassian was way ahead with Nesta. Even if the rule was to keep the Illyrian wings glamoured at all times, the general still had his wing stretched over his mate. Somewhat protecting her from the wind and shower. Azriel offered the same thing to you, but you refused it instantly. Even if it was silly. You liked him too much, and sitting so close to him felt too intimate, even if his body warmth would keep your teeth from clacking against each other. Sometimes you wondered if there was a possibility that he liked you too. You have known him for some time now. The girls constantly told you that you were just oblivious to the signs, but all of his gestures always seemed friendly, never like something more. You pulled yourself out of your head the moment your horse came to a halt.

"What's wrong, boy?", you asked softly, even if you could name at least five things that were wrong at this particular moment. You rubbed the mount's neck, trying to see ahead. Your heart sank a little when your eyes didn't land on the shadow of Nesta and Cass in front of you or Azriel, who at all times kept to your left. "Guys!", you shouted worryingly, yet your voice died down. Washed away by the sound of rain. "Azriel", your heart started to beat faster with every passing second, "If you are just messing with me, it's not funny."

Yet you knew they wouldn't do that. Especially not now. But you needed to give yourself something. Anything before you lost yourself to the panic. You gently nudged the horse to move forward again. The shield of water only seemed to increase, completely blocking your view of what was around you. You tried to scream out for your friends again, but it got you nowhere. Only resulting in more and more frustration. You were about to scream for Azriel once again when someone launched full force into your side, sending you out of the saddle and onto the dirty ground.

Your head hit the surface, making your vision blur for a moment. Just enough to see your horse disappearing into the distance, startled by the attack. Attack. You tried to turn your head to the side, seeing a group of what you assumed to be males standing over you. One of them kneeled closer to you. Even from under the hood, you could see his smug face. Unfortunately for him, you didn't love when people looked at you like that, so you quickly inched your leg up, and kicked it right at his face.

That would have given you the upper hand to escape, but you only got a couple of feet from them, before multiple sets of hands snatched you once again, followed by the blade to your neck, "You pull any more stunts and I'll gut you from the inside out." You squirmed in their hold anyway. You were not going to go down without a fight. But your attempts got cut short when someone launched another blow to the back of your head, and everything went black.

Azriel was both: worried and slightly pissed when you refused to ride with him. Firstly, he didn't want you to get sick. And your "I'm a big girl" attitude was getting on his nerves slightly, especially when your health was involved. And secondly, he selfishly wanted to hold you close to him. Have a reason to do so. He just wanted to feel his warmth surrounding you. To know at any given moment you were safe. This rain clouded his senses as well. He felt more distressed and uneasy, so trying to ensure that all of you were safe was a task in itself.

The shadow singer turned his head your way. He tried to limit those glances at you because he knew that every one of them was edging you closer and closer to snapping at him for being too overprotective. But when his eyes didn't fall on your frame, his heart nearly stopped. Azriel turns his head to look behind him, hoping that you had just fallen behind the group, but no. No sign of you. The spymaster shouted for Cassian to stop. Riding back a little as he called your name frantically, "Where the fuck are you?", he mutters under his breath. "Let's go further back, maybe she got separated," but then the darker shadow inches closer, and Azriel pulls out his truth-teller. It was a horse. And Azriel almost wanted to let out a breath of relief until he saw an empty saddle. His shadows swirling around it. All the color drained from his face as the spymaster turned to the general, "She got attacked. They've got her."

You're thankful that they at least dragged you to what you believed was their camp. That sheltered you from the rain, and even if your wet clothes didn't fully let your body warm up, it was better than nothing. Your hands were chained in front of you, alongside your legs. With the right amount of motivation, you could probably escape but this was the male you were sent after.

"Pretty poor look for the thief lord if you'd ask me", you snarled as the male, who you assumed was in the lead of this group, stepped into the room. A few of his men inched closer, but he brushed them away. "My apologies that it doesn't meet your standards, my lady," he says as he reaches for your face, but you move your face out of his reach, "I'd rather entertain rats than you."

The thief lord grits his teeth as he falls to the chair directly opposite you. "You're full of yourself. What makes you feel like I won't just chop you to pieces?", you let out a bitter laugh before gazing right at him. "Ever heard of a shadow singer? The spymaster of the night court?", you drag your words out like a melody. The male's face pales slightly. Of course, he had. Was there a soul on this earth that didn't know of his cruel ways? "Well, I know that if something happens to me here, he will drain your body dry, and enjoy every second of it." Now it's his turn to laugh, yet you can feel the fear lingering deep down.

"I know you've been tracking me down," "Oh, look, you are aware of some things," you tease back, but that earns you a slap on your face, even if it's not the hardest of punches. The rings with rubies and other stones make quite a mark on your face. "Listen to me, you little bitch; you answer my questions now, and I have many." Taking a fistful of your hair, he lifts your head, and you can feel the blood running down your cheek. "Let's start with what your high lord wants with me", "You're wasting your questions. Cause you already know the answer, and if you don't, you are an absolute fool", another slap, and this time it's your neck his fingers move to.

"Where are the others who came with you?" His voice was firm, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. "Dancing on your grave." The male lets out a frustrated growl before turning away from you. At this moment, you knew one thing and one thing only. You needed to drag this out as long as you possibly could. To give Azriel enough time to find you because he was going to find you. He always did. Even if the world was falling to pieces, he would find you. "Bring her to the shore," the lord barked out after making up his mind. A shiver ran down your back, "We're going to use some of the older methods."

The rain outside had lessened, yet the drops fell colder somehow. At the sound of the water running, it hits you. This explains the enormous fog. There's a huge river here. Two of the thieves have a firm grip on you as they push down on your knees. The sharp rocks and pebbles cut into your skin. "How do you feel about a little dive?", the lord asks you, smirking sheepishly. "All in if you join me," you bite back, but the male just points a finger, and your face is under the icy water in the blink of an eye. Considering that that came as a surprise, you barely got any air, causing you to trash in the holds of the two males as you tried to lift your head.

When they finally do, you are gasping for air, feeling as if you were on fire. The stinging in your head from the icy cold water causes your head to pump. "Now you get the rules. If you answer incorrectly, you will go down under. The more I don't like your answer, the longer you will be in the water," he says, yet now all you care about is that you are out in the open, which gives your friends an easier opportunity to find you. "So, what does Rhys know about the rubies?", the thief lord brushes some of the wet hair away from your face, but with one crooked smile, you spit right at his face, "Suck your own dick", you bark out and you know what's coming next. Yet it's not even a slight bit less shocking. The feeling of someone firmly pressing your face in the running water. The tide of the water made it hard to keep any oxygen in your lungs since the water seemed to pour into your nose. Then you're dragged back out, gagging up the water in your system.

"I'm giving you one last chance to redeem yourself, pretty face," his fingers tangle in between your hair as he turns you his way. "What does he know?", "That you don't have them," the thief lord's face shifts. Confusion is all over it. "Sorry, I'll make it more understandable for your dumb brain. You left them alone in the camp without supervision and came here to have fun with me," rage fills his eyes as he orders his men to return to the camp, "You will pay for this, cunt." His pushing you under feels different, and you can tell that he is not messing around. Your face is practically hitting the bottom rocks as he keeps your head in the water. However, his other hand comes to your neck, and he presses so hard that you can't help but open your mouth as you let all the air out of your lungs, letting the water pour in. You start to thrash around as the fear of actually dying runs through your brain. Ultimate panic sets in, and all of your logic senses turn off.

Nesta had the rubies as she darted away from the camp, and Azriel takes to the skies alongside Cassian. The plan wasn't like this, but the moment they stormed the camp and found your handprint on the box, they knew exactly what it was and that you had left a clue for them, knowing full well that they were going to find you. The feeling in Azriel's chest was telling him that something was seriously wrong, and when his shadows came screaming at him about the water, he went into full madness mode. The sight of your head under the water and the thief lord holding you down practically made him want to roar. Cassian was the first to throw a dagger that pierced through the male's right arm. He let go of you partially, but your head stayed under. The moment he sees the two males, he drags your body up before holding you in front of himself and using you as a shield.

You let out a tiny gasp but then slumped in his arms. Azriel was seeing red, but pulling out weapons now was dangerous. "You make a move, and I'll drop her into the river", the thief lord threatened. "You've lost Albert; hand her over, and you might walk out of this alive," Cassian said in a warning tone. He was well aware that Azriel was in a primal male form now. Primal mate form. Knowing very well that the bond had snapped for Azriel a while back, his brother just kept it a secret, knowing that he was as stupid as you and had convinced himself that you felt nothing for him in return.

"What is my gain? I walk out of this alive, and Hybern will kill me for the rubies", the lord steps closer to the edge, "She's your girl isn't she?", the male nods his head towards Azriel. The spymaster's jaw nearly splits in half. "She promised me a slow death from you if she gets hurt", "I will make you regret that you were born", Azriel snarls through gritted teeth, but the lord only laughs, turning his face to you. He shakes your body a little, pushing two things down your throat, and you almost immediately choke out the water that's been in your lugs, saying, "Here you are; you were missing all the fun." Albert presses his face into your neck as you still gulp down the air. Eyes falling on Azriel, and he's practically falling to his knees at how small and pale you look. But at least you're breathing. That's all he needs to know now.

"I'm sad I didn't have more time with her; I'm sure she'd be capable of a lot," the male kisses your neck, and this time Azriel tosses the dagger right between his eyes, but it misses the lord. The male spins you out of his arms and into the freezing river as the tide takes you down the river lane.

The sensation of water dragging you down makes your skin burn. You tried to pull yourself out, but every little breath you managed to take in was met with yet another wave crashing down on you. But you crawl your way back up; you need to. For Azriel, you need to tell him. You can't die without letting him know. You manage to keep your hands above the water as another wave moves over your hand, and that's when you feel it. Warm fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and then you're out of the water and up in the air. Azriel had caught on to you while soaring over the river. "Hang tight," he whispers as his other hand clasped over your second wrist. You could almost cry at the feeling of him being there as he lowers you to the grass.

You got the rest of the water out of your system, and before you can even get a breath in, Azriel's arms are around your body as he presses you closer to him. You can hear his heart beating under your ear. It's racing so fast. So fast that this can't be healthy. You pull away from him slightly, "I knew you would come", the spymaster shakes his head. Eyes falling over the cuts on your cheek. "I thought I lost you. Multiple times," "You saved me, Az."

The spymaster notices your shaking frame and carefully lets go of you before ripping his jacket open and wrapping it over you, pulling you close to him once again. Your ice-cold skin melted into his warmth. "You get yourself sick," you mumble, causing Azriel to snort, "I will get sick? You've been under that water all this time, and you're worried about me being sick?"

With a couple of breaths, Azriel scoops you up into his arms before he moves to go back to Cassian. "I would have never forgiven myself if you were to die," the spymaster says, looking ahead of himself, "But you would find another best friend to replace me with." You rasp out, your throat feeling achy already. Azriel tightens his grip on your body. "I would send out a whole army to find you because, without you, I don't have a purpose in this life," he whispers under his breath, and your icy fingers cup his cheek slightly. "I had a feeling, just wanted to make sure. Why do you think I threatened that fuck with you?". Azriel lets out a breathy chuckle, resting his head over yours for a moment. He's hoping his body heat will be enough to keep you warm till you all get to safety. "Remind me to tell you that I'm really in love with you if I make it," you mumbled softly, your eyes starting to feel heavy. "Oh, you will make it. I will make sure that you do."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago

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🤽‍♂️ WIBTA if I broke a pool rule made specifically about me? 🤽‍♂️

Long story short, I (27M) am a freediver and work as a lifeguard at my local pool. I'm one of the few adults who work there, and most of my coworkers are either in highschool or barely out of it.

To be perfectly honest, I would not trust a good number of them to save me if I were to drown. And thats not just because they're teenagers, some of them have some seriously dangerous bad habits that they've been warned before about.

So now that winter has started and I can't go out to the lake, I've been practicing my breath holds at the pool to stay in practice. But I do NOT do this when one of the problem guards is on duty. I only ever do it when there's a good guard on, it's not too busy, and they're at least some level of aware about what I'm doing.

Shortly after I started doing this, big "No Breath Holding" signs went up.

Of course none of the guards were told about this because communication is sometimes a problem at this pool. So I have no other information other then there wasn't a sign, and now there is.

But I'm reasonably sure the signs are specifically because of me. I guard there pretty frequently, and I've never seen anyone hold their breath for a concerning amount of time. Its mostly kids who do, and none of them can hold their breath more than 15 seconds and they pop right back up, so other than keeping an eye on them, I've never been legitimately worried about them. That's one of the things I'm least worried about while guarding tbh, there are a LOT of other dangers.

Frankly, I think the rule is silly. I'd think it were less silly if we had a problem with patrons holding their breath for long periods of time, but I've never seen it happen. So unless it happens in the hours I don't work, I can only assume the rule is specifically about me.

Maybe I'm being paranoid or having main character syndrome, but from what I see, I'm the only one who would actually be affected by this rule.

Now since I only dive in front of a handful of guards anyway, I figure there's a decent chance that if I warn them about what I'm doing ahead of time that they wouldn't raise a fuss about it.

But it IS a liability issue for the pool (a lot of our rules are mainly to do with liability tbh), and I worry that very explicitly breaking this rule is an AH move and I should just accept I'm going to have to retrain in the summer from scratch.

NOTE: The lake does not have any lifeguards, but I never dive alone. But it is CONSIDERABLY safer to practice at the pool where the water is clear and there's a lifeguard right there. I'm comfortable practicing for longer at the pool for this reason, while at the lake, I'll usually only do 2 practice dives to warm up, a few shallow dives, and one big dive.

YES, I recognize that freediving can be a dangerous hobby. NO, I don't need to be told that. Most outdoor hobbies are on some level dangerous, and so long as you actually know what you're doing and have a spotter, I honestly think it's at least as safe as something like horseback riding or biking on roads next to cars - either of which can kill or maim you in a heartbeat if something goes wrong. Dangers in freediving usually (not always) occur when pushing yourself too far, and I'm incredibly cautious about my limits for that exact reason.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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t3a-tan · 1 year ago

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What would James do if he found a borrower child by themselves? Especially if Oliver wasn’t there to help?

Oh I don't know... Probably something like... This!! >:)

---

"Oliver?"

James was a bit surprised to hear something fall in his kitchen— mainly because Oliver usually greeted him when he arrived…not to mention that he told James just a couple days ago that he would be busy for the week and wouldn't be visiting during that time.

James turned off the TV and stood up, doing some much needed stretching after having sat down lazing about for most of the day. He paused as he heard more rattling in the kitchen, growing concerned. Oliver hadn't responded…was he stuck somewhere?

"You okay, mate? Did something happen and you had to come by early or did you just miss my handsome face that much." He added a bit of humour to his words as he walked into the kitchen, immediately recognizing that the noise had been coming from the sink. His eyes widened. "Shit— hold on…"

Without wasting any time he carefully picked up the various dishes and cups that were piled in the sink in an effort to find where Oliver had managed to get himself trapped. He wouldn't have been too worried if not for the fact that the dishes were all currently soaking in warm water, and if Oliver was stuck then he might also not be able to breathe.

Eventually his hand brushed against something that didn't feel like dishes or bits of food that were floating about it the water, and without even checking to make sure he was correct James hastily pulled his friend out of the water, making sure to pick up the plate that had trapped his leg first to avoid injury. He pulled the plug out too to keep the incident from repeating.

"Fuck— are you okay? Please don't drown in my sink, that would be a...a… um." James trailed off, freezing up as he watched a young child shuddering and hacking up water whilst in his hands.

"You aren't Oliver…" He murmured, slightly in awe of that fact. He hadn't held another borrower besides Oliver before— he had interacted very distantly with some borrowers that Oliver was in the process of rescuing once, but they hadn't spoken a word to him…let alone allowed him to carry them.

It was surreal. Even though Oliver let James poke and prod and carry him as much as James wanted (with permission of course), it never felt that crazy because…well… Oliver acted very normal. Sometimes James even forgot he was the size of his thumb if he hadn't looked at him for a while.

This was different, because this was new. Oliver had never put much significance to James carrying him or touching him, but he had always reminded James not to grab or touch or pick up any other borrowers he found—

Oh.

"Uhh hey kid. You alright?" James spoke, thankful that the boy was at least awake. Coughing up the water was a good sign, right? Better than not coughing it back up at least… James leaned in closer to try to see how the child was doing physically.

He was rewarded with a terrified squeal, one that startled him so bad he very nearly dropped the poor kid. Not that it would have mattered, because the kid scrambled back away from his face so quickly that they toppled over the edge of his palm anyway.

"Shoot—"

James's hands quickly shot down to catch them, and he was relieved when his fingers managed to catch on the kid's little bag. For a moment James was intrigued by the tiny pack, only to quickly focus on the panicking kid that was kicking and shoving at the air in hopes of escaping.

"Careful there, kid. Here, I'll put you down…nice and gentle, see? Nothing to be— hey!" James was in the process of lowering the tiny child onto the kitchen counter, but the moment he released them they made a run for it. James didn't hesitate to slam his hand down in front of them, stopping the kid in their tracks.

"I'm not done with you yet, kid. Will you just— OW! Fu—rick..!" James cursed (or almost did) as he suddenly found the sharp end of a sewing needle getting jabbed into the base of his thumb. He thought borrowers carried those to fight off predators! Why was this kid stabbing him??

Once the initial shock of the needle wore off it no longer hurt, and so James pulled it out with ease. He shoved it in his pocket before levelling the kid with furrowed brows and a deep frown on his face.

"Right then you—"

"P-please don't kill me..!" A tiny cry of terror caused all of James's frustrations to disappear in the blink of an eye. He watched with halted breath as the child curled into a shaking ball and covered their head…cowering. From him.

James's heart sunk. Oliver said other borrowers would be scared, but he never explained how scared. James had always assumed they'd be more nervous than terrified— Oliver after all had zero fear of James when they first met. He was the one approaching James after all.

But here James was, looming over a tiny kid who apparently thought he was a murderer. James's hand fell away from the counter quickly, now hovering close by with worry.

"Hey now… I'm not gonna…kill you." Despite his attempt at reassurance the kid remained curled up in terror. James sighed. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking— didn't notice you were so scared. I won't do anything to you, okay? I'm just surprised. Oliver said I didn't have any borrowers in my house."

Thinking that maybe mentioning he knew what borrowers were might help. It seemed he was off his game today…

The tiny child's wide eyes turned onto him, face as pale as a ghost. James bristled, not expecting such a visceral response.

"I'm… I'm not a bad human." The words left James's mouth, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than reassuring the kid at that moment. He had taken Oliver's nonchalance for granted it seemed, because right now he felt like nothing more than a monster.

The kid had gone back to burying their head in their knees, visibly shaking, silently heaving in a way that made it clear they were crying. James felt worse and worse for the kid by the second.

"How old are you..? Where are your parents?" James wished Oliver was here. He would know what to do— not to mention that this kid wouldn't be shit scared of him.

After receiving no response, James reached forward slowly, very lightly tapping the child's back to check if they had heard him.

"T-ten…! I don't know where they are— p-please let me go…" They sobbed, now openly crying without their face buried in the fabric of their shoddily made clothing. James winced.

He would let the kid go… but if they didn't know where their parents were then that wasn't a good idea. But was keeping them a much better one? Would Oliver be mad at him for keeping them? Would he be mad if he let a kid go alone?

He decided not to respond to the plea, focusing on the answers he had received instead.

"Are you lost? I can get you back home if you need it, kid. No fare to pay either." He joked, but neither he nor the child laughed. He doubted the tiny child even understood what a fare was.

"L-let me go…." They begged again. James pursed his lips awkwardly, not responding. If he said no the kid would panic more, and if he said yes then he'd be lying.

"I have chocolate..? Even borrower kids must love chocolate, huh? Let me fetch it…" James moved back away from the tiny kid, although he hesitated while looking down at them from this perspective. They were so tiny… being around someone as confident and assertive as Oliver had made him forget just how minuscule and fragile borrowers were compared to him.

"I'll… hang on." He turned, rummaging through a cabinet and trying not to focus too hard on how colossally he must be screwing things up. "Where did I..? Did I finish it or something…? Oh! Here—"

When James finally found the fruit and nut chocolate bar he turned back to the kid only to find an empty countertop, with a little puddle of dishwater left in their place. He saw wet prints and followed them to one of his outlet covers which was slightly askew… the kid had escaped.

Rather than calling out and scaring them more, James sighed. He looked down at his hand, trying to remember what it felt like to hold them in it moments ago. He then shook his head, putting the chocolate bar down on the counter before pulling the sewing needle back out of his pocket and putting it down next to it. He glanced towards the wall the kid was probably currently hiding in. Hiding from him.

"Your needle is on the side… and chocolate. I'm going out, okay? Just don't get hurt please." He spoke with a slightly raised tone to make sure they heard him. Then, with some hesitation, James stepped away from the counter. He put on his shoes, grabbed his keys and left.

Please don't die.

#g/t community #g/t #ocs #borrowers #g/t artist #giant/tiny #borrower au #g/t au #ask box #oc asks #ask #g/t fearplay #g/t writer #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing

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silviakundera · 5 months ago

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The Princess Royal ep 25 and ep 26 comments

I like that they gave us a lil preview of PWX's issues by including a scene where he explicitly worries about THE SRQ (her quasi boyfriend) being back with them -- because it ends on him self-soothing to himself that she's his wife. That's what he would tell himself in Life 1, that SRQ couldn't ever truly possess her because she was his wife. (I believe hot 40s PWX hallucination said something similar back in the bath scene.)

This is why he's so triggered by the idea of a divorce while she isn't as freaked out, because the emotional part is what's hard for her. She doesn't need to marriage arranged by the emperor to be united hearts. But to PWX, this was the one thing he had with Li Rong. The way he could keep her.

It's honestly such a perfect conflict for them to have, digging straight into the knot PWX still has in his heart. She's been reassuring him in this episode so far and now the lady with massive trust issues is confidently saying that they can just get divorced but not treat it as real, "our feelings aren't something a marriage contract can decide." But she isn't really hearing him any more than he's hearing her.

Indeed they toned down the argument from the novel. I thought this would happen, because the screenwriter seems scared to really let them be harsh to each other.

"Yes." Li Rong spoke decisively, "But this divorce is a sham. When the future is complete, we will marry again."

"Has Your Highness ever thought," Pei Wenxuan spoke calmly, "that after you and I are divorced, if I have someone else in mind, what will happen to Your Highness?"

Li Rong froze, and after a moment, she forced a smile: "If ...... you have someone else in mind, just let me know."

Li Rong squeezed her fan and restrained her emotions, "I am not an unreasonable person. No one should be tied to anyone for life, if you have someone else in mind ...... then ...... that's why you don't come back."

Both of them are taking turns stabbing each other in this conversation and just need a thousand hugs.

"I was reluctant to [divorce] because I cared about the relationship, and I wouldn't have given up even a little to the powers that be to do so. But you did not hesitate, you did not even think of any other way. You said to me before that if one is sincere, one should show respect. But when it comes to such a choice, Li Rong, you have never hesitated to choose power." As Li Rong listened to these words, she felt as if she had been pressed into the water by Pei Wenxuan. All around her was slow and quiet, and her whole body was soaked in water, struggling and unable to breathe. She listened to Pei Wenxuan's words like the last ten years of her last life, when he scolded her again and again, "Li Rong, you're simply black-hearted and snake-hearted."

And Li Chuan would also ask her after the occasional drink, holding his glass of wine if he could, "Eldest Princess, do you think that if I were not His Majesty, I would still be your brother?" She didn't care before, she could scold him wantonly, even tell him outright and openly, "Yes, I am such a poisonous woman with a snake's heart and a black heart and a rotten liver, what's wrong with that? She could have smiled at Li Chuan and changed the subject as if she didn't understand, and simply said, "Your Highness is joking." She thought she was used to it. But in this life, when she got along with Pei Wenxuan as a new Li Rong, when she got a sincere "sister" from Li Chuan, when she got a solemn "I'll wait for you" from Pei Wenxuan, she felt that there was finally light in her life, light that washed away her mud and made her look up, and she began to yearn for those thoughts that had long been drowned in the palace and that she should not have had. Because she had seen the sunlight, she felt a pain that she had never felt before come up as someone pressed her into the water once more. She listened quietly to Pei Wenxuan's words. He said, "The Li Rong I want, the Li Rong who is worthy of my watch, should not be like this." Li Rong laughed as she listened, and she did not echo, did not answer. She twirled a chess piece as if nothing had happened and only said, "I am only making a suggestion, accept it if you want to, I don't care if you don't want to be an official anymore, if you want to go and die and be pressed to the ground by Su Rongqing." "How much do you think I care about you?" Li Rong placed the chess pieces on the chessboard and let out a low and mute voice, "If you are useless, it doesn't matter to me if you go to your death." When Pei Wenxuan heard these words, he knew that they were Li Rong's words of anger. If Li Rong was angry, she could say anything she wanted to say. He knew that, but he still felt pain. It was because he had spent so much time with Li Rong that he had forgotten how painful it could be if this person dug into his heart.

Anyway, we got the unsent letters! And my man got his Xie Wei moment lol.

The return of Cui Yulang!!! My bro!! 👏👏

PWX, who has traveled back 20 years in time to be reunited with the love of his life: Wishing on lanterns, a ridiculous superstition

I really love how unhinged these two are, to be baby making & divorcing at the same time 😂😭

Am I disappointed they cut the sex scene? (which is very different from the kiss-fighting scene, do not fear) eh, I expected that tbh. But screenwriter, perhaps at least let the audience know they are banging on the regular now?

my body is ready for the horny divorce era!!! Please censors, let have us something 😭

Still do not like the change of making SRQ think he has a chance with LR. 🤔🤔 He was never that delu in the novel, and only proposed to her that one time as a lifeline when it looked like she'd gambled & lost. why would he even think this is possible?? He's canonically very smart, though deeply classist. Come 'ere screenwriter, I just want to talk?

But thanks for including the ominous SRQ line, "Then he deserves to die. Anyone who lets the princess down, deserves to die." The actor actually made an effort to look intense. #youtried

Immediately figuring out how Li Rong had clowned him again and acknowledging defeat, then setting fire to the Remonstration Office is as interesting as he's ever been. Finally we see someone worthy of being our princess' old aquaintance.

(but I really wanna be in his head during the audience with the emperor: I burned down a government office and you're murdering witnesses already?! damn girl, we're gonna tear this country apart 💀)

Onto Round 3, we are:

Li Rong: 2

Su Rongqing: 0

#silvia watches #cdrama #the princess royal

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monsterswithimagines · 3 months ago

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Undisclosed Desires - Part 20

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1472

Masterlist

Smuuuuuuut. For those of you who are getting bored of the sex parade, don't worry. This is actually the last smutty part in a while. We need to be getting on with the storyline lmao.

What I'm going to do is nothing.

We are having a great night with Paco. He is dressed like Spider-Man, and you love Spider-Man. The two of you talk about the movies and the comics all night.

I feel like a third wheel, but the good kind. We are a tricycle.

One day in the future, we will have a child or a couple of children of our own, and it will be just like this. You will be able to talk to them about their interests and I will be the smiling, overindulgent father who listens and brings home gifts - books, toys, anything they want - and grosses the kids out because he still loves their mother, even after ten, twenty, thirty years of marriage.

I really believe that's our future, (Y/n), and you believe it, too. That email I sent was a mistake, but when you find out about it, I'll say it wasn't me. You'll believe me. You'll think you've been hacked. And of course, it will never happen again.

What was your mother thinking, anyway? Why would she send you an email like that? Doesn't she know how much it hurts you when she speaks to you that way?

One thing's for certain: I see why you feel the need to keep all your anger inside. Your mother is like a child who's tantrums you need to endure. You don't want to be like her. You want to be her opposite in every way.

She was right about one thing, though. I am the perfect man. And as the perfect man, I understand better than her why you try so hard to please your grandparents. Without them, you have no family you can depend on.

You have me, but we are not a family yet. You're not ready to take that step. You like to take things slow, and I'm beginning to better understand why.

At the end of the night, we drop Paco off at home and then go inside. You flop down on the couch and yawn. You worked all day and babysat all night. You are tired.

I sit down next to you and wrap an arm around you. You lean into me and close your eyes, breathing deeply.

This is perfect. I love you when you're like this.

“Hey,” I say.

You answer softly: “hey.”

“You want me to run you a bath?”

“I'll fall asleep and drown.”

I have to admit, that seems like a real possibility. You are just about falling asleep on me already.

“I'll get in with you,” I offer. “And carry you to bed after.”

You humm. You're not agreeing, but you're not disagreeing, either. I get up and go run that bath. You follow me and get undressed on the way. You are not shy about being naked in front of me, now. Even if you were, you're too tired to think about it.

Once the bath is full, I get undressed myself and step into the water. I hiss, because it's a little hot for me, but that's how you like it, so I'll just have to deal. You follow me in and you rest your back against my chest. I wrap my arms around you and you relax even more.

“I love you, Joe,” you say.

“I love you more.”

You don't fight me. We both know it's true.

You tilt your head so I can kiss you. It's slow, almost agonising. We've never had sleepy sex before, or sex in a bath. And you've never been on top while we had sex either. All new possibilities to try.

You notice I'm hard - how could you not? - and you smile into the kiss. Even though the bath is tiny, you manage to manoeuvre around so you're facing me, stradling me.

“I'm really tired,” you tell me, even as you guide me into you with your hand.

“Uh huh,” I say.

You grind. Water makes sex dryer but you are so wet for me that it doesn't matter. You huff out a breath at the tiniest amount of friction and I could come from this, right now. I could. Because of the look on your face. Because of the way your eyes flutter closed when your tiny, tiny movements become a rhythm.

Thank God I didn't fill the bath all the way to the top. Some water sloshes over the edge and I'll have to clean the bathroom later, but it could be worse.

“So tired,” you repeat. “I just want to have this nice bath and go to sleep, Joe. Can we do that?”

“Of course,” I say.

Somebody could hear this conversation and not realize we're having sex. But I am hard inside you and you are pulsing around me and you want my cock, all the time, no matter how tired you are. If you could carry it around inside you, you would.

And I completely understand, (Y/n). Because I want to be inside your pussy forever.

Your movements speed a little and this is driving me insane, this slow build. I stand and I lift you and you let out a squeak. I've never heard you make a sound like that before, but now I want to hear you make it again. You are tired and your guard is down, and I bet I could draw the most beautiful noises out of you tonight. I just bet I could.

I don't care that we're both still wet, and you don't care either. You wrap your legs around me as I carry you to bed, and you pull me with you when I lay you down.

I enter you again in one fluid stroke. I keep the slow pace you set for us, but my thrusts go deep. Our hands interlace above your head as we kiss.

This slowness, it's new. Neither of us are patient when it comes to reaching our peak. But tonight, you are tired, and I am in a mood to explore you. To see what you'll let me do with you.

I want to tie you up. I want to make you come again and again until you're begging for me to stop.

Not now, I decide. But it's not a bad idea.

I kiss your face, your neck. I pull out of you so I can kiss your breasts. You were close already, I can tell from the low moan you let out when I leave you.

“Joe…”

You rarely say my name during sex. I love it.

I massage one of your breasts with my hand while I lick and suck your other nipple. Then, I allow myself to wander. I kiss down your stomach and your legs and I even kiss your feet. My hands rub your thighs and I can see you clenching, but I won't touch you where you want it most. Tonight, you'll only come on my cock.

“Joe…”

I kiss my way back up your body and I kiss every knuckle, every finger, and when I finally enter you again you are a gasping mess. You need it. You need me badly. You are not usually loud but even your soft moans are exquisite, (Y/n). And when they get louder, I know it's because you've never felt like this before.

I feel you cum. Your pussy clenches and your body jolts, and you only let out a single, short “ah!” but it is beautiful. And I am not done with you.

You tremble as I continue to make love to you. My name is a prayer on your lips now. I whisper yours in your ear like a mantra. Your body is tense from your first orgasm and you are close to a second, I can just tell you are. After you cum again, I'll cum. Then, we'll fall asleep just like this, with our bodies still locked together.

“Please, please,” you whisper.

Your second orgasm rolls over you more slowly than the first. You tense and you shudder and I am so, so close behind you. I just need–

“Please, Joe. I need you. I need you.”

That's it. I still as I empty myself inside of you. You stroke your hands through my hair and hold me close and you are not the only one making noises you've never made before, (Y/n). I didn't realize sex could be like this. I feel like a new man.

“That's it,” you tell me when my body finally relaxes. “Thank you, Joe.”

We fall asleep just like that, my body draped across yours like a blanket. Then, an hour later we wake because we are wet and cold, and you complain as I get up to flip the mattress and change the sheets.

And I love you. I love you.

#joe goldberg #penn badgley #you netflix #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg x reader #imagine #joe goldberg x female!reader #joe goldberg x y/n #joe goldberg x you #x reader

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coopigeoncoo · 2 years ago

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An Itch to Scratch, Chapter 1: Foolish Lover's Game

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Tags: Mermay, Mer!Kirishima, Interspecies Relationships, Sexual Content, Somnophilia, Drowning, Caretaking, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Medical Conditions, Family Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Long-Distance Relationship, Wakes & Funerals, Family Member Death, Depression, Original Characters, Adopted Children, Angst with a Happy Ending.

This story is part of a collaboration from the Teahouse Server.

---

Kirishima Eijiro is everything you never thought you'd find when you packed up your car and moved to a dilapidated fishing town. He was handsome, funny, and kind; the sort of man who took your breath away.

And that might actually be a bit of a problem.

---

"Good girl ," Eijiro praised, his hands like a vice on your hips as he pulled away from your mouth with a satisfied grin. You returned his smile with one of your own; the vibrant joy that had churned in your belly unfurled throughout your body, leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded.

"Eiji," you gasped, eyes widening in panic as your lungs seemed to seize in your chest. "I- can't breathe!"

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

It was an indescribably gorgeous day out in the water, the waves lapping at your shoulders were the perfect temperature to cool your sun-warmed skin without chilling you. The sky was a solid bright blue with no variation in its hue, making it look like whoever was in charge of coloring the sky that morning just stuck a paint sample card up and called it a day.

"We've been out here for a long time," you mentioned offhandedly, heaving yourself up onto your raft inelegantly, grunting as you struggled to get a leg up and roll onto the wildly bobbing flotation device.

"Oh!" Kirishima exclaimed, startled by how much the sun had shifted in the sky. "Yeah, we have! Geeze, it's already way past noon!"

Finally fully on your raft, you let out a whoosh of air as exhaustion settled into your muscles as you sprawled out under the warm sun.

"Do you wanna' try and squeeze up into the raft with me?" You offered, patting the narrow sliver of remaining raft at your side. "It'll be a snug fit, but we can make it work."

"As much as I'd love to join you up there, I don't think It'd be a good fit," Kirishima admitted regretfully, his throat bobbing as his eyes over the curve of your hip where your rash guard had crept up and exposed a strip of sun-warmed skin.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you laughed nervously, doing your best to banish the thought of the two of you on the raft together, limbs tangled up and chests pressing closer as you struggled to make room for each other. "I'm just worried your legs are getting tired."

"Why would they be?" Kirishima asked with a furrowed brow, snagging a bit of seagrass floating by and twirling it about on his finger.

"Because you've been treading water for hours now?"

"Oh, right! My legs are so tired right now!" He laughed uneasily, balling up and crushing the seagrass in his fist.

"Are you going to be okay to get back to shore? I'd hate for you to get caught in a current and be too tired to make it back to shore safely," you told him, concern seeping into your tone as you rested your hand across Kirishima's muscled forearm.

"I'll be fine," he beamed at you, gazing at you with soft eyes as he ran his thumb tenderly over the back of your hand. "But it's sweet that you're worried about me."

Breath catching somewhere in the vicinity of your diaphragm, you smile bashfully in response, turning your hand in his to lace your fingers tightly with his as the two of you lazily paddled back towards the shore.

It hadn't been in your plans to move in with your Grandpa after graduation, but it also hadn't been in your plans to be buried so deeply in educational debt you weren't sure you'd ever manage to pay it back. Your chosen field was competitive and potential employers weren't calling back, so with the move-out date for student housing fast approaching you weren't left with a ton of options.

Gran-Gran had passed a couple years prior and Gramps had done a good job carrying on without her, even though you tell by his wistful sigh when he walked by the framed photographs in the hallway that he missed her dearly. But as he marched steadily towards the end of his life the list of things he was able to do independently dwindled with each passing month. He'd nearly broken a hip during your final semester when he'd fallen off a chair trying to replace a burnt out bulb in his porch sconce.

That event had gotten the family chat buzzing with concern; people expressing their displeasure that he was living alone but unwilling to personally do anything to remedy the issue.

Suddenly flush with time, you'd loaded up your car and made the long trip up to the seaside house your Grandparents had lived in for far longer than you'd been alive. Your friends had been jealous of your relocation at first, imagining your new life to be the glamorous sort that they had seen in movies and the obligatory beach episodes of their favorite shows. Their excitement for you had quickly evaporated when you finally arrived and started sending them photos from your new town.

Every picture you sent was overwhelmingly brown. Everything from the buildings to the sand and even the ocean itself was a murky russet color, a far cry from the pristine blue they had been picturing in their heads. Even the food did its best to conform to the town's limited color palette; the beige of fresh fried seafood and potatoes that made up the majority of your meals made for a sad entry whenever you compared snapshots of meals.

It had saddened you at first, the oppressive brown atmosphere, but in the end it had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The blandness of your surroundings had made you notice the brilliant crimson spot bobbing across the distant waves, a beacon luring you out into the water to investigate.

Hastily donning a life vest, you set out from shore on your trusty inflatable raft, making a horrifying discovery as you neared the mysterious red blob in the distance.

It was a person.

Ice cold panic crashed through your veins as you frantically paddled out towards the man, the head disappearing beneath the waves for longer and longer stretches of time, your lungs aching in sympathy for how long they were staying submerged between breaths.

After what felt like an eternity you were finally upon them, limbs shaking from adrenaline.

"Are you okay?" You called out, chest heaving from exertion.

The man spun towards you in the water, eyes wide in shock, before he let out an ear piercing shriek and disappeared beneath the waves with a large splash.

"Hey!" You screeched, shoving your arm down into the area where his head had submerged, bright red hair completely hidden by the murky ocean water. "Can you hear me? Swim towards my voice!"

Your shoulder was aching with how violently you were waving it about, desperate to make contact with the struggling man losing his fight with the sea.

"Please," you begged whatever Gods above or below might be listening. "Don't let me be too late- I couldn't paddle any faster! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You wailed, throwing yourself half over the side so you could reach in with your other arm, hoping to double your chances for finding the drowning man.

"If you can hear me, just- just hold on!" You cried, tears blurring your vision as salty water splashed across your face. "Please! Just grab hold of my hand! I won't let go, I promise!"

Uncountable, anxious moments passed before you felt fingers gently graze across your palm. You surged forward, wrapping both your hands around the man's wrist and then hauling yourself backwards, pulling the man towards the surface with all your might.

"I caught you!" You sobbed in delight when his head breached the surface. You tugged him further up to hang off the edge of your raft while you collapsed next to him, chest heaving in exhaustion.

"Yeah," the man gasped, looking at you with wide, dazed eyes. "I guess you did."

That man was Kirishima Eijiro and you two had been inseparable ever since, spending lazy days floating out on the ocean and enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you would lay quietly along the bottom of your raft, watching the horizon for the tell-tale spouting of water that heralded the arrival of a surfacing whale. Kirishima loved to show off his diving prowess when you were in shallower waters, sliding beneath the choppy waters with a sharp grin, returning moments later with interesting shells, bits of bone, and wriggling starfish with too many legs.

You had thought about asking him into town with you, but that notion was immediately discarded because what would you even do there? Visit the only restaurant in town that served the exact same fried fish your Grandpa made while you withered under the judgmental gazes of the old fishermen playing dominoes at the corner table?

Hard pass.

So you woke up before the sun with your Grandpa, dodging all his attempts to coax you into sitting on a whoopie cushion or trying out a new bottle of perfume you knew with utter certainty was just a dolled up bottle of fart spray; and paddled out in the early morning light to spend the beginning of the day with Kirishima. Once the sun's rays became unbearable you'd return to shore and join your Grandpa and his friends down on the dock, mending nets and patching crab pots while they doled out unsolicited life advice.

You accepted their wisdom with a polite nod, knowing that they meant well. Their own children and grandkids had left the town years ago and never looked back, so you were a convenient outlet for all the paternal advice they so rarely had the opportunity to dispense.

Days crawled by, each much the same as the one before, and you tried not to think about how easily you had settled into life in this moldering town that seemed to decay before your very eyes.

You expressed this to Kirishima; your worries and fears about identifying so strongly with a lifestyle that would likely be buried alongside the aging townsfolk.

"What will you do then?" He asked, staring intently into your eyes as his fingers tightly gripped the rope running around the side of your raft. "Will you stay? Even when your Grandfather is gone?"

You didn't like to think of it- of your Grandpa dying. He was such a spitfire of an old man whose playfully nature seemed immune to fading like his eyesight and hearing had.

"I don't know. But I think there might be more reasons to stay than to go," you whispered, returning his meaningful glance; the moment ruined by the choking squawk of seagulls passing overhead.

"Is there anything here, do you think? Between us?" You asked Kirishima one cloudy day, your nerves jumping as you mustered up the courage to broach the subject that had been on the forefront of your mind for weeks.

"Nah," Kirishima scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. Your stomach twists in on itself in embarrassment and you rush to find some excuse to change the subject when Kirishima continues talking. "There was a shark around earlier, but it's gone now."

"Wait, what?" You screech, tucking your legs up to your chest protectively. "There was a shark and you didn't think to tell me?"

"You didn't notice?" He asks, face scrunched up in confusion. "Weird."

"It's not weird! How would I even be able to notice something like that? You can't see anything in this water! Did you like, kick it or something?"

"Yes," Kirishima coughs uneasily. "I know it was there because I kicked it. With my feet. Of which I have two."

"Oh God, it was that close?" You whine, burying your face into your hands while Kirishima seemed to be experiencing a delayed revelation.

"Hold on- what were you talking about before if it wasn't the shark?"

"Oh, uh," you stammer uneasily, fiddling with the zipper of the emergency bag strapped to your waist. "Nothing! Don't worry about it."

"Were you talking about us, us?" Kirishima groaned, rubbing a wet hand down his face with a rugged groan. "Oh, man! I've totally messed this up, haven't I?"

"No! Of course not!" You quickly reassured him, still not brave enough to meet his eyes after his casual rejection. "This is all on me. I shouldn't have assumed- I should have realized that what I was feeling was one-sided."

"Hush," Kirishima rumbled, a gravely sort of sound that sent shivers down your spine. Fingers ran across your forearm, leaving gooseflesh in their wake as you hesitantly lifted your gaze to his.

"Whatever feelings you have- however you might see me, believe me when I say that I feel the same."

"So, we're friends," you offer tentatively with a wobbly smile.

"The very best," Kirishima agreed readily.

"And…also something more? If you'd like?"

"Oh, I'd like that," he grinned wildly. "I'd like that very much."

Grandpa wasn't in a good way when he woke, his joints stiffer than normal and a delay in the movement on his left side that had you contemplating loading him up into your beater of a car and driving him inland to find a doctor. You decided to spend the morning with him, despite his colorful protests, and called down to the dock to let his friends know that he was alright.

You could tell he was frustrated by the shaking of his hand and how often he had dropped his toothbrush in the sink, so you let him slip you a piece of chewing gum that turned your teeth black in an effort to cheer him up. He was delighted by your coal-black smile, letting out a wheezing guffaw every time you grinned at him. Your teeth would be a touch gray for a couple of days, but it was worth it to see your Grandpa's spirits bolstered.

After escorting Gramps down to the docks and fetching him a large glass of water, you bid the group of old curmudgeons farewell and darted down to the shore. Kirishima didn't own a phone, which was usual in this day and age, but not unheard of in the area. Paranoia ran thick through people's blood and many of the old guard were happiest living as far off-grid as they could reasonably manage. Kirishima's lack of phone wasn't typically an issue so long as you stuck to your established routine, but it did make it difficult to coordinate whenever things went awry.

Hands cupped above your eyes, you peered out into the water and saw Kirishima's brilliant red hair far closer to shore than was typical. He was swimming back and forth in tight circles as if he was pacing, anxiously awaiting your arrival.

You raised your hands above your head and waved frantically to catch his attention, snorting in amusement when he finally noticed you and lost his focus, getting pushed under water by a passing wave.

"That yer friend?" One of the old men combing the beach with a metal detector asked.

"Sure is," you reply tightly, not thrilled by the notion of your personal life becoming this week's town gossip fodder.

"Be careful with that one," the man warned with a snort, hocking a thick brown loogie down onto the sand by your feet. "He's got red hair. That's bad luck out on a boat."

"Everything is bad luck out on a boat," you mutter sourly.

"Yer not wrong," the old man wheezed in amusement. "Just be careful. The sea is greedy for beautiful things, and yer the prettiest thing that's been 'round here in a long, long time."

"Aww," you coo, savoring the way the rare compliment settled warmly in your chest.

"Don't let it go to yer head," the man sniffed, pulling his headset back over his ears as his wand started beeping enthusiastically about something further inland. "Yer just a fairer sight than the rest of us old farts, but that ain't saying much."

"I hope you find nothing but bottle caps until the day you die," you grumble peevishly, blowing a dramatic kiss out to Kirishima, who dove to catch it in midair before holding it fast to his heart.

"If only," the man sighed as he limped away. "But I ain't never been that lucky."

You were startled by your Grandpa coughing loudly while he worked on slicing up his fish fry into bite sized pieces.

"One of the boys told me they saw you out on the beach this morning," he said, dipping a small piece of fish into a heaping pile of ketchup and horseradish.

"Of course they did. You're all a bunch of nosey busy bodies," you huff in irritation, shoving a large spoonful of canned peas into your mouth and wincing at their lack of flavor.

"I trust you and your judgment," Grandpa assured you as you picked up the salt shaker in the middle of the table. "But just be careful, alright? I've been a man for many years now and up to no good for nearly all of them."

"I will, Gramps. Thanks for worrying," you said with a smile, giving the shaker a hearty jiggle and watching in horror as the lid fell clean off into your peas along with the entire contents of the salt shaker.

"Ya' see?" Gramps hollered, slapping his knee in delight. "Totally untrustworthy- the lot of us!"

Your relationship with Kirishima, while good, was innocent on the best days and positively chaste on the worst. You had vivid memories of participating in far more brazen displays of affection with your middle school boyfriend than what Kirishima seemed comfortable with.

Wandering hands were constantly redirected to areas safely above the water line and attempts at kisses were redirected at the last moment onto turned cheeks and noses.

You didn't mind the slow pace at first, respecting Kirishima's personal boundaries and desire to not rush into anything physical. But as the weeks ticked by the speed of your developing relationship shifted from glacial to stagnant, you couldn't help but be frustrated and more than a little confused.

"Ugh!" You screeched in irritation when your kiss landed across his jaw instead of your intended target of his lips. With a huff, you push on Kirishima's shoulders to propel yourself backwards in the water and away from him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brow wrinkled in confusion as he reached out for you, hands flexing in a grabby motion to lure you back to him.

"That's what I want to know!" You yell, slamming your hands down on the surface of the water, the sudden impact stinging your skin. "You just push me away every time I try to get close to you!"

"I- I'm sorry," Kirishima whimpers.

"Do you- do you want to break up?" You ask, voice quiet and cracking.

"No! No, of course not!" Kirishima rushes to reassure you, closing the distance between you in an instant, pulling you against his chest and running comforting fingers across your cheeks, leaving trails of water in their wake. "I care about you so much."

"Then what's going on?" You sniff miserably, nuzzling the space between Kirishima's pecs to comfort yourself. "Why won't you kiss me?"

"I just- I feel really bad when I try to kiss you."

"Really not helping out my self-confidence here, Eijiro," you wince, the sound of his heart beat thundering under your ear.

"Ah, geez! No! Not like that! I just, maybe, haven't been completely honest with you about something," he admits hesitantly. "And I feel guilty."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he shifts uneasily, kicking up a strong current that lashes against your legs. "It doesn't feel right, getting closer to you while I'm keeping a secret."

"Can you tell me? Your secret, I mean," You ask hesitantly, staring up into his warm eyes.

"I want to," he says, dropping his forehead down onto yours with a heavy thunk that sends stars flying across your vision. "I'm just scared."

"You don't have to be scared," you assured him honestly, looping your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. "I'm already halfway in love with you. It'll take a lot to frighten me away."

"Yeah," Kirishima sighed morosely. "I know."

Kirishima wrapped the tow line of your raft around his chest and swam out towards a rocky outcropping further up the shore and away from town. You hadn't explored this far North before because the tides were fairly strong in this area and it was easier on your arms to drift and explore the areas to the South.

"Here we are," Eijiro announced, lashing the rope of your boat around a half-rotten piling; evidence of a past pier claimed by the sea. You scuttled out of your raft as smoothly as you could, the waves breaking on the rocks making your exit maneuvers more bumbling than you would have liked. But you managed to get to the top of the slick rocks without slipping, so it was an overall win in your book.

"Alright," you said with a firm head nod, focusing on Eijiro's serious expression and not the unpleasant feeling of algae squishing under your hands. "What is it you want to tell me?"

"Okay," Kirishima sighed, his chest visibly sinking with the force of his exhale. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, just- give me a minute?" He squeaked, running his shaking hands through his damp hair, the bright red tresses clumping together into rows between his fingers. "This is harder than I thought it would be."

"Maybe just say it really quick?" You offer. "Just get it over with- like pulling off a bandaid."

"A what?"

"Do you…not know what a bandaid is?" You ask, utterly flummoxed by his question.

"Not important right now," Kirishima waved his hand dismissively. "We'll circle back to that later."

"Of course. Right. We need to stay focused here."

Moments pass in silence as you wiggle your fingers in the squishy algae beneath you while Kirishima's skin seems to turn ghastly pale before your eyes. You were about to ask if he was okay when he suddenly released a powerful roar that seemed to rattle your bones with its intensity.

"C'mon, Kirishima! Man up! You've got this!" He bellowed, suddenly pointing at you with one of his long fingers. "Are you ready!?"

"I-," You stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Yes?"

"That's the spirit!" He cheered, pumping a fist into the air. "Here I come!"

And then Kirishima surged up and out of the water, his arms tensing as he caught the edge of the rock face and began pulling himself up in an impressive show of strength. He scrambled for purchase across the slippery stone, eventually letting out a triumphant grunt when he found a foothold and was able to push himself up.

And up.

Kirishima was towering high above you now, his torso stretched far above where a normal human chest would be. His monumental form blocked out the sun and cast a shadow down onto your shivering body- either from the sudden chill of the shade or the prickles of fear jolting down your spine; you weren't entirely certain.

As your eyes trailed down his elongated body it suddenly became clear as to why you'd never seen Eijiro out of the water.

Starting at his waist and proceeding downwards were rows and rows of chitinous plating that nestled and slotted I to each other to form a massive lobster tail. Eight spindly legs clicked loudly across the rock as he swayed nervously from side to side; arms crossing and uncrossing as he waited for you to respond.

Overwhelmed by his revelation, you inhaled a great shaky breath and promptly burst into tears.

"H-hey," Kirishima stuttered, reaching for you on instinct; second guessing his actions at the last moment and pulling his hands away with a pained grimace. "It's okay! I know I look scary, but I promise I won't hurt you!"

"It's not- it's not that," you wailed, blowing your nose into the hem of your rash guard. "I could never be scared of you, Eijiro!"

"Spirits be praised," Kirishima whispered, visibly deflating in relief as his arms shot out once again to embrace you, running his hands soothingly down your back as he made quiet shushing noises to soothe you. "If you aren't scared, then why are you so upset?"

"Because I'm allergic to shellfish!" You cried, burying your face into his shoulder as another wave of sobs overtook you.

"I don't- what does that mean?"

"It means that lobsters make me sick!"

"Oh," Kirishima muttered numbly, his hands stilling against your back as dread welled up in his belly. "Well, shit."

The two of you lay sprawled out on that rocky outcropping, idly watching the clouds shift by. Kirishima was on his back, his numerous lobster legs folded and tucked close to his body while his feathery swimmerets fluttered anxiously in the air.

"So, how allergic are you exactly?" Kirishima asked, his tail slapping against the ground mindlessly as his thoughts raced.

"Allergic enough to carry this," you sighed as you unzipped your emergency pack and pulled out an EpiPen. "I've had to carry one ever since I was a kid. I used to eat a ton of lobster- wait. That must sound awful to you!"

"Nah," Kirishima said, waving off your distress with a hand and a couple of legs thrown in for good measure. "I eat lobsters all the time. They're delicious."

"I- well. Okay, then," you replied uneasily, trying not to dwell on the potential moral ramifications of Kirishima's lobster consumption. "Anyway, I had ordered some lobster tails like I normally did, but once I started eating them I began itching like crazy. I've avoided shellfish ever since."

Kirishima blew out a frustrated breath as his hand crept towards you, weaving his fingers through yours.

"What are we going to do?" Eijiro murmured dejectedly, squeezing your hand tightly as the clouds tumbled through the sky above you.

"I don't know."

#eijiro kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro x y/n #eijirou x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #pigeoncoos🕊#bnha x self insert #mha x female reader

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kalmiaphlox · 6 months ago

Text

Your Body is My Canvas

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Astarion is finally ready to learn how to swim after two centuries, and Kalmia, ever his dutiful partner, is there to teach him.

Lessons don't take all that long, it's a nice night under the stars, and Astarion fancies himself an artist. Lucky for him, Kalmia has a perfectly good body to paint on.

Main Tags: Smut, body painting - with mud AND blood, blood sucking, face sitting, PiV sex

“What's the hesitation for?”

“You're not going to drag me to the deepest part to drown me are you?”

Kalmia narrows her eyes, head just barely bobbing above the water. “You don't need to breathe.” She feels like they've had this conversation before. When has she ever betrayed his trust? “Clothes off, come on.”

With an agonized groan akin to a child throwing a fit, Astarion throws his shirt off to the forest floor, before sliding his trousers off, leaving just his undergarments. He pauses again, “What if the fish bite at me? I don't want to become their food.”

“I don't-” Would fish nibble on him since he's… (un)dead? No, no. It's fine. “You're safe with me, irthiski. I'll keep all the very scary guppies away.”

“Wretch,” he bares his fangs for a second before finally taking his first steps into the pond, the ripples from his movement lightly tickling her face. “No pranks, tricks, jokes, or gaffs. I will leave immediately if you attempt to pull one over on me.”

“I swear on my worthless honor that I won't ‘pull one over on’ you.”

“You won't let me sink?”

The fretting… Gods above. “I'll make sure your head stays above water.”

His frown is pure disgust as he wades in deeper, the water now rising above his hips. “I hate mud.” It is exceptionally muddy out, the heavy rains plaguing the area finally gave them a reprieve, if only for a few hours so they can have this time to themselves.

“I know, my dear Princess of House Nightstar. Please bear with these horrid conditions, and if your frail body is fee-”

“I think that's enough from the peanut gallery.”

Alright, she'll leave the poor vampire alone. “Stop there. We can try just floating for now.”

The scoff he lets out is enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head. “Floating? ! I want to swim, not drift away like some moldy piece of wood along the current!”

“We're starting with the basics, if you can't float , then you can't swim.” She's considering just dragging him back to shore, but refrains. He's scared, and unfortunately that presents itself in cattiness, Astarion knows Kalmia is right, he just needs to fight every step of the way. Her precious kitty, he's lucky she likes the snark.

Standing up with her water-soaked shirt on, she holds her arms out in the water, nodding down at them. “Lean back here, I'll hold you up so you can get the feeling.”

“Ah, but my hair! It will be-”

“Now.”

“Ok.”

He sucks in a deep breath, lowering himself so she can support him in the water. “Stare up at the sky, ears should be underwater,” He does as she tells him. “Good, now arch your back very slightly- Yes, just like that,” She positions a hand right at the small of his back. “And now, hold your arms out at your side and spread your legs, a bit wider than shoulder width.”

His eyebrow quirks with the ghost of a smirk, and she suppresses the very strong urge to let him go at this moment. Kalmia won't ruin this for him, Astarion is being agreeable - for him.

“You're doing great, irthiski. How does it feel?”

“Stupid.”

She laughs quietly. “That's fair. Keep breathing steadily, I'm going to remove this hand,” Flexing the one under his back, “I'll keep the one on your shoulders, but try to stay still.”

That might be a whimper that slips through his lips, but she ignores it as she moves her hand away slowly. Astarion instantly begins to stiffen, “Don't do that, relax.”

“It feels like you're dropping me.” He spits out, seething with no actual rage.

“I told you I'd never let you go. Don't worry about it.”

That gets him to soften infinitesimally, though not enough as he jerks in the water and everything falls apart. His legs kick out, dousing them both before Kalmia shoves hips down.

“Just stand, Astarion. You can't sink here.”

He finds his footing, slapping his hair back with a sneer, pointing an accusatory finger at her chest, “You let me go!”

“When the flailing begins, it's better to stand than fall. It's not deep, but if you truly went under, I would have pulled you up.” She expects more retaliation, but Astarion's anger deflates with each word. “Let's try again, I'll hold you longer this time.”

“Fine.”

Repeating the new routine, he returns to lying back on her hands. This round goes smoother, and after a few minutes, Kalmia removes the hand from his lower back, Astarion is able to keep his cool.

“Alright, I'm removing the hand from your head. You're doing great.” She does as she says, hovering her hand around him for the moment he inevitably flinches, but that time doesn't come.

Unfortunately, Astarion does look a bit like driftwood, Kalmia keeps her mouth clamped shut.

“So, uhm- How do I stop?” His eyes glance to hers, so shiny in the moonlight eeking out between the cloudy sky.

“Drop your legs and lean forward.” The movements are a little disjointed and he drops below the water for a moment before shooting up, spitting and coughing. Kalmia pats his back. “Are you done or would you like to try on your own?”

Retching up the last bit of water with pure drama, Astarion gathers his last piece of dignity. “Just once by myself.”

“I'll still keep my hands beneath, but I won't touch you.”

Hmm.

Kalmia's almost certain that if it weren't for his nervousness, Astarion would be fine. There's some minor adjustments he makes that make her think he retains some residual muscle memory from a time long forgotten.

They can focus on it next time though, floating on his own is good enough for now.

His last self-directed float ends and he's able to stand up without going under so he shrugs his shoulders, smug with pride. “I've always been a quick study.” Gods forbid he takes anything with a bit of grace.

“Yes, you're clearly an expert now.”

“Just you wait, I'll be swimming circles around you yet, little wyrm.”

For so many reasons, she doubts that. “I will be waiting with bated breath.”

Astarion purses his lips at her mocking, cutting through the water with just his head visible. Kalmia stares down at him when he swiftly wraps his lithe arms around her waist to rest his chin on her stomach. “This wasn't as much exercise as I was expecting, and I'm feeling a bit spritely if you wish to… indulge.” His eyes have darkened with lust as he says so and she's already beginning to feel that heat sparking within.

She runs her fingers along his pointed ear, a soft touch that he leans into. “I more than wish to, but sex this deep is an, uh, advanced technique. I don't think we're there yet.”

“There's a perfectly good pond shore behind you, I think that will work just fine for our needs.”

Well, now she's just in disbelief as she quirks an eyebrow. “You would fuck me in the mud?”

“My love, I want us to be so covered in mud that we'll have to bathe thrice.” His hands slip under the long, water-logged shirt she's wearing, gripping her hips tightly.

Kalmia holds his chin now, caressing his lower lip with her thumb, before pushing his lip up to expose a fang. “Are you going to be a dirty boy for me?” His pupils are near eclipsing the red irises as she pricks her thumb on his fang and pushes it within his mouth. He sucks gently with the quietest of moans, eyes fluttering shut briefly with ecstasy, and his fingers press into her hips with a bruising strength. Leaning down, she brushes her lips across his ear, and whispers, “Won't you defile me?”

A low growl makes its way out of his throat, “I'll make sure everyone sees how I love you.”

Kalmia straightens and puts on a pouty voice. “I could use the reminder too, you know…”

Astarion raises up her shirt, revealing the crook of her hip to graze his fangs along the spot. “That reminder could go right here. ”

“Do it.”

His fangs sink into the flesh with his strong arms holding her so she doesn't collapse, as Kalmia almost goes limp from the feeling. There's nothing like that ice cold shock that settles into her body when he draws blood, but two long pulls is all Astarion needs before letting go, licking up the dribbles with languid ease. “Such a delicious creature, I think it's time I ruined you.”

She attempts to remove her shirt, but Astarion stops her firmly, “No, leave it on for now.” He drags her to the shore and crushes her against him in a metallic-tasting, deep kiss, before wasting no time in laying on his back, gesturing for Kalmia to get on him. “I need to prime my canvas first, sit on my face, darling.”

Oh gods, she's gonna come so hard tonight.

Positioning herself above him, she lowers down onto her knees with Astarion guiding her by the hips. His eyes flash up at her, just barely visible. “How much more blood can I have tonight?”

Her chest is already heaving. She licks her lips, steadying her breathes. “You can have one more bite, so make it count, irthiski. ”

He hums with acknowledgement, “Other than you kneeling, do not dirty the rest of your body. That is my canvas to paint. All the way down now, my love. I'm starving.”

Now lowering herself dutifully, Astarion's cool tongue greets her slit, sliding up and down the length of it and Kalmia lets out a breathy moan. One of his hands wraps around her thigh to rock her against his hungry mouth while the other slithers up her body to palm a breast.

He sucks in her clit only to release it with a pop that makes Kalmia's thighs quiver, she won't be able to maintain this position forever with the tongue lashing she's receiving. Her nipple is being pinched and twisted, and oh fuck Astarion has slipped his masterful tongue inside of her dripping cunt, groaning as he tastes her. Mewling wantonly as he tongue fucks her, Kalmia leans back, but not before Astarion stops his ministrations to look up at her with ravenous eyes.

“You can't come yet.” And with that, he dips back into her folds, lapping up her slick as his nose bumps against that sensitive bundle at the apex of her sex.

Evil man, she thinks before leaning back with a hand upon his firm abdomen, feeling how they flex as he eats her out with abandon. That familiar coil of euphoria is building within and Kalmia stills her rocking, trying to subdue the high she so badly wants to chase.

Fuck her, he's latched onto her clit again, and Kalmia can't contain the beg escaping her lips, “Astarion, majak ve kutol!” When his hand leaves her tit, she quickly moves to replace it with her own, teasing a hardened peak.

His ragged voice is a purr as he nuzzles against her thigh, “You can come now.”

And he knows his words can always send her over the edge.

Her hips jerk without a rhythm as Kalmia falls forward, squeezing her legs together around Astarion's head and grasping at his hair as she fucks his face desperately. Her inner walls clench as his tongue slows its dance on her clit, whimpering when the last wave of pleasure ends.

Holy hells, he treats her so well.

Sliding back along his chest weakly, but not losing out on this chance to leave her own mark, Kalmia takes in his appearance. Astarion is grinning lasciviously, licking her spent left behind on his lips. “Gods, you're delicious. Now let me see how well you followed instructions.” Sitting up, he inspects her body, pulling the shirt over her head, running a hand down Kalmia's chest, groping and suckling on her breasts until her hardened nipples are puffy and she's yearning for more, grinding her aching cunt against his still covered shaft.

All seems to pass his test, they can-

“Well, what's this?” Astarion is holding her hand, palm side up. “I can't trust you with anything.”

Kalmia startles, looking for the offender, “What?! Where?”

“Right here, ” indicating a spot where a tiny bit of mud had smeared between her fingers. Who knows how it got there. “Tsk, tsk, how disappointing. Now, what shall your punishment be?”

Luck is on her side, she loves his punishments.

Astarion brings her in for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, winding her long hair around his wrist and wrenching her head back, tonguing at the smooth skin around her neck. “I'll take my second meal now. Try not to come from it, you harlot.”

“No promises-!” is all Kalmia manages to squeak out before his fang pierce her skin again, and he moans into her as that sweet lifeblood pours down his throat, crushing her against his chest. In a great show of wills, she doesn't come - thank the gods , but by the hells is she close as he ruts up into her with a deep swallow.

And just like the good little vampire he is, Astarion stops after two large drinks, but this time he doesn't clean up the remaining flow. When he pulls back, blood drips from his chin. “My love, you're going to fuck me with that tender love and care you do so well, and I , the artist, will paint the most beautiful figure. But,” leaning in, he nips at her lower lip. “I need an extra pop of color .” The nip turns into a sharp sting, he's cut open her lip and blood now trickles out, splattering onto their chests.

Astarion lays back, adjusting his briefs so he can wiggle out of them even with Kalmia straddling his waist, and he sighs in relief when his cock springs free beneath her. She risks a glance, her mouth watering at the sight of it - flushed with her blood , and glistening with more than just precum. “Did you come while I was on you?

“Oh gods, yes. I'd like to see you contain yourself when the most ethereal being imaginable grinds on your face.” A sweet smile appears as he takes her in while leaning back on an elbow, “Your punishment… Hmm,” he taps his bloodied mouth, the smile turning sinister, “I think, you know for a little fun, you can't touch yourself. At all while you're on top of me. Keep those little mitts away from your body.”

She takes it back, she hates his punishments. “No! Astarion, please! I want-”

“Quit your crying, lizard. Now,” He runs a finger through the drops of blood, writing out something along her collarbone. “I know an artist should sign his work once he's finished, but I shan't be letting that go to waste.”

Did he just… sign his name onto her body in her own blood?! Gods, he can own her body and soul, but she'll never say that outloud. “Hmm, the vision just isn't complete yet… Kalmia, I need you to fuck me, I can't paint under these conditions.”

Absolutely deranged. Though it's not as if she's above such things, she's just jealous he thought of this first.

Rising up and taking his cock in hand, she places it against her entrance but Astarion's hip buck, enveloping himself within her fully. Kalmia gasps, steadying herself on his shoulder with a tight grip, “I- I thought I was supposed to fuck you- ah!”

He cants into her once more, “You were going too slow, but that's what I get for loving a geriatric dragon.” Pulling her in for another deep kiss, tongue swiping up the spilled blood, he pulls away just as fast, lips coated in that bloody treat. “Time to begin!”

She has no idea what he's about to “paint”, but his cock’s already buried deep inside and she wants - needs to experience the decadent stretch he provides.

Getting more dirty doesn't matter at this point, and it's not like this henich could serve up a worse punishment, so she places her hands in the mud, arching her back slightly as she slides up and down on his length.

Astarion muzzles his groan behind tightly shut lips, his lust-filled eyes rove over her body before he nods as an idea strikes him. “I've got it!” Slapping a hand on her thigh, he drags two fingers up to her hip. When he removes it, there's a muddy handprint and two lines, which is then connected to more lines he's drawing over her hip and stomach.

She's slowed down her bouncing to take in his work, and Astarion's eyes snap to hers, “Is your old body failing you? Ride me, you beast!” As she picks up the pace again, relishing the way he hits those tender spots and the slapping of them coming together, Astarion cups one of her breasts and then circles around a nipple, the other he just crosses through.

“What's- ah, what's wrong with that one?” Kalmia rasps out as he roughly grabs her hips, grinding her down onto him.

“Nothing, my wyrm. It's called abstract art, I'd assume-” His words fail him as she clenches on his cock. Kalmia tilts in, and Astarion meets her with his tongue, tangling with hers. One of his hands is still working at painting her body abstractly - or distractedly, too bad they don't have a mirror, she'd love to see his work.

And they won't be able to make it home in time anyway, “It's about to rain.” She mutters against his mouth.

A growl rises from his throat and she hears his hand pound into the mud beside them. What a tem- her thoughts fall apart as Astarion shoves her backwards, landing in the shallows of the pond.

Seems he's lost interest in painting.

He collapses into her, smashing their lips together as he plunges his cock furiously inside of her, pinching and twisting one of her nipples and swallowing the moans that slip out of her lips.

The patter of rain is heard as drops hit the water and ground beside them. His fingers have drifted to her clit, and Kalmia cries out, begging for him to finish her when he's circling the bud lazily. Astarion quickly splashes water over her chest to clear some of the mud away, “I won't take- ah! - more, but I need you to come on me!” he grits out, and she knows he's close now as his brutal pace picks up even more.

He nips once at a nipple before biting fully into the supple flesh of her breast, and this time she reaches her heavenly climax when that exhilarating prick of pain strikes down to her core, no blood is drawn this time as Astarion continues to fuck into her through his own orgasm, head tucked into her neck once he releases her tit. Thank the gods they both can't drown, he's pushed her through the mud further into the water where Kalmia could barely keep her head above it, and she clings to him as her body ebbs into the post-coital afterglow.

Astarion's pale body goes limp on top of her, pushing Kalmia all the way under and she can't help but laugh at the silliness of this whole thing, releasing bubbles of air to the surface. Realizing that she's stuck beneath, Astarion rolls off, letting her crest above the water again with a sputter, and he smiles apologetically, “You squeezed the life - well, unlife from me. I lost all strength, what magic did you use to take it from me?”

“Hag's magic, I need to stay young somehow.” Kalmia coughs out before devolving into laughter, “I think your masterpiece is all gone now!”

“Ahh, oh well, I still have this beauty here.” He brings them together for one more kiss, and once released, Astarion runs his fingers over her lips, “Apologies for the cut, I got a little too excited.”

“That's all right, can I return the favor another time? I want to paint.”

He hums thoughtfully, “I don't see why not, but I worry your bite is much, much worse than your bark.” With a wide smile, she snaps her teeth at him, and for that slight, he splashes water onto her face, “Stay back, you pond monster!”

“Poor, irthiski, scared of a little dragon…” She giggles, but relents in her attempts to take a nibble, “You wanna float some more or head home?”

“Let's float, love. It's quite peaceful out here, even with this revolting rain.”

“Rain is clean water, it's no-”

Astarion places a finger over her mouth, “Oh, how I love when you're quiet.”

Hah! Isn't that rich?

With a shout Kalmia dives onto him, dragging Astarion kicking and screaming deeper into the water so he can see what a pond monster actually does.***

***Kalmia did not actually drag him into the deep end.

-majak ve kutol - give me release

#astarion #bg3 #fanfic #astarion fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fic #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion x oc

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