#and i get to see fun little anon thoughts!

[synvil]

can’t swim // rafe cameron

a / n : rafe cameron thoughts. btw this was actually an anonymous ask i sent to a writer, i don’t know if she’ll write it but im sure if she does, it’ll turn out amazing. @rafeysbunny i’m 🧋 anon, hehe.

fun fact, i cannot swim.

synopsis : in which, rafe overhears that you can’t swim and during a party out on the docks, some of the kooks push you into the ocean to loosen you up.

warnings : reader can’t swim. kelce being an ass, peer pressure, etc.

“are you serious, [Name]?”

The raised tone of her voice causes you to shush her as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and purse your lips faintly. “Not so loud, sare..” You let out a small breath and frown, leaning back against the headboard of her bed.

Sarah nods in understanding, lowering her tone as she sighs softly and crosses her legs on the bed in front of you. “That’s crazy- i mean, everyone here in Outer Banks are either surfers or decent swimmers.”

“Except me..” You trail off, shutting your eyes as you bring your hands up to your face. “It’s pretty humiliating, you know.. Seeing everyone in their swimsuits and able to swim in the ocean or go surfing, without the fear of drowning.”

“Wow, no wonder you wouldn’t ever go into the pool or go swimming with us during the boat parties on the dock..”

Unbeknownst to you two, Sarah’s door was open and a passing Rafe Cameron was on his way downstairs when he overhears your conversation.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, but each time, I feel my body sinking and it terrifies me. Plus, y’know, with the whole nearly drowning as a kid trauma and shit.” you force a laugh while Sarah shares a bittersweet smile.

“It’s alright, stay by me tonight and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Thanks, Sarah, I appreciate it.. and you can’t tell anyone either, okay, especially not Rafe.” You warn pleadingly and she chuckles and nods. “wait, why specifically him?”

You feel your cheeks warm at her question as you turn away. “Your brother just seems like the type to make fun of me for it, and besides, it’s just embarrassing to have a guy i think is hot, to know that about me.”

Sarah scrunches her nose and shudders. “I think your crush on my brother is more embarrassing than you being unable to swim.” she teases and you playfully push her away from you as she breaks into a laugh.

Rafe peeks into the room and thinks for a moment as his eyes examine and take in your form. He has already known long ago of your developed crush on him, and to say he has a mutual infatuation with you may be an understatement.

Every time you come over, Rafe finds every excuse to be in the house, sometimes even in the same room, just to get a look at you.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you feel shy, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, everything entices him, intrigues him. You were just so perfect.

Rafe quickly pulls away when he hears movement and leans against the wall beside the doorframe for a moment.

Despite being a little surprised at the newfound information, it brought a little smile to his face. You can’t swim? How cute.

“Come on, we should get ready for Topper’s party tonight.” Sarah says and you sigh softly, but get up anyways with her as she heads over to her closet. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

Rafe lingers for a second longer as he imagines what you’ll be wearing before taking his leave downstairs.

It’s around ten at night when the two of you arrive at the docks, the night sky surrounding the area with only the lights of Topper’s large boat illuminating the place.

“I don’t know, maybe i shouldn’t be here..” You go to turn around but Sarah stops you, pulling you to her side. “Come on, it’ll be okay, i promise. Besides, you look super cute, so flaunt it, okay?” She winks and you huff a breath before following after her.

The closer you get, the louder the partygoers become and the music blasting is enough to stimulate the senses.

Once you get on board, Sarah is engulfed by her friends, while you remain on the sideline with a weak smile and awkwardly hugging your arms. Despite being a kook, you weren’t among the popular ones but that wasn’t enough to get you on their bad side at least.

You rub your arms, the thin fabric of your cardigan doing nothing but add to Sarah’s fashion sense of your outfit tonight. In her baby blue, cropped cardigan, a matching spaghetti strapped solid colored tank and dark washed, high waisted denim shorts.

You help yourself to the bar, grabbing a red solo cup and letting the bartender fill the plastic cup with some beer before bringing it to your lips, hoping it would do some good to alleviate some anxiety, while you keep an eye on Sarah from nearby, who’s talking with her friends.

The scene brings a smile to your lips when you recall her saying she would keep an eye on you earlier in the day but you were happy to see her enjoy herself.

However, you didn’t get to enjoy much time alone as Topper and his friends make his way over to you.

“Hey, [Name]. All alone again?” Kelce smirks and you merely offer a small smile in return. “Not much of a party kinda girl.. but it’s nice.” you mention the last part to Topper who dismisses you, understanding you meant no offense.

“Where’s Sarah?” Topper asks, looking around the area and you gesture over a little ways nearby.

“She’s talking with some friends.” You reply, tapping my fingers against my cup as you shift your footing, feeling the anxiety come back, causing you to take another sip of your drink.

You let your eyes wander around the group, briefly catching Rafe’s, who let his eyes trail up and down your form for a moment, taking in your appearance. The way the baby blue color popped against your skin, the way your hair was styled for tonight’s party. Even the way you shyly held your cup to your chest, fingers still tapping against the sides.

Feeling your cheeks warm from Rafe’s intense gaze, you turn away and look back to Kelce.

Kelce and some of the other guys step closer and you give a small smile to them. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Come on, [Name]. We notice you always come to these parties but you don’t do anything,” Kelce mentions and you force a chuckle. “I’m an observer.” but some of the other guys don’t take that answer. “All we’re saying is, you should loosen up a little. Come on, some of the girls are taking dives off the tail, you should join.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you wave off the idea. “No, i think im good tonight, im actually pretty tired..” You say and Kelce scoffs lightly as his hand goes down to grab your wrist. “Don’t be a buzzkill, [Name], the water will wake you right up.”

“Kelce, i’m not really in the mood to-“ Rafe places a hand on Kelce’s shoulder, stopping him. “Let go, dude, let’s just leave her alone.” But Kelce doesn’t listen as he drags you along to where the other girls are, and the commotion causes all the partygoers to look over, Sarah looking your way.

Your eyes meet Rafe’s and he notices a look of fear and anxiety in them as Kelce brings you over and you try to pull away, the other guys surrounding you all, cheering Kelce and You.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, loosen up, girly.”

“Kelce, I really don’t—“ Despite your futile attempts, Kelce just takes the cup from your hands while Sarah pushes her way through the crowd. “Hey, Kelce, leave her alone!”

Rafe purses his lips and pulls Kelce away. “Hey, seriously, that’s enough.” He warns, pushing Kelce back, who just furrows his brows and scoffs. “What the hell? Why are you getting in the way, man?”

Sarah manages to get to your side, standing over you protectively. But the other girls now get in the way.

“Come on, Sarah, let [Name] do it.”

“it’s not scary.”

You shake your head again, as the girls pull Sarah away, leaving you alone with the kook surrounding you.

Rafe is pushing Kelce away, who’s confused and pushing Rafe back in retaliation. Meanwhile this leaves the other Kooks to act freely and the guys seem to share the same idea and go over to your body.

“Hey, hold on—“

But it’s too late, as the guys pick you up with ease and toss you overboard, a wave of laughter and cheers erupting from them.

“[Name]!” Sarah shouts from the girls hold and Rafe widens his eyes as he whirls around at the sound of your scream and a splash from the impact.

“Shit-“ Rafe curses as he roughly shoves Kelce into Topper as he rips off his shirt before taking a leap off the deck and into the water with you.

You flail, panic surging into you as you begin to hyperventilate. “S-Sa-Sarah—!”

“What the hell?!” Kelce scoffs with furrowed brows while Sarah feels tears brimming her eyes. “[Name] can’t swim!” she cries out as she rips away from the girls and shoves two of the guys out of her way before leaning over the railing. “[Name]!”

Topper’s, Kelce’s and the other kooks’ eyes widen in shock at the revelation. “What?”

They all rush over the rail to peer into the ocean as Rafe is diving under to find you.

Rafe manages to find your sinking body, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you up to the surface, your body already unconscious due to the lack of air and your panic flailing.

“[Name], [Name], are you okay?” He gasps as he reaches the surface and uses a hand to caress your cheek while the other props you up under your back. “No, no, come on, [Name], wake up.”

Sarah rushes around down the boat and on the boardwalk and leans down. “Rafe, Rafe! Come on, bring her over here!”

Rafe clenches his jaw when you still don’t respond and swims his way over towards Sarah as quickly as he can, panting before lifting your body up, Sarah doing her best to help you onto the wooden docks, laying you flat on your back.

“[Name], please! please wake up!” Sarah cries as she jostles you, Rafe climbing onto the dock next to her and looking down at you. She begins doing chest compressions, tears streaming down her cheeks faster. By this time, everyone on the boat is out on the boardwalk surrounding you body on the ground.

Rafe stands up straight, his clothes soaking and dripping but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he tries to catch his breath, staring down at his sister trying to wake you.

He contemplated for just a minuscule of a second, about beating the shit out of Kelce, but he prioritized your wellbeing first.

“Rafe- she’s not waking up.”

Sarah inhales sharply, trying not to think the worst and her older brother kneels down, pinching your nose closed before bringing his lips down to yours.

The kooks are whispering amongst each other, surprised by Rafe’s sudden leadership actions.

Rafe pulls away, continuing Sarah’s chest compressions before going back to pressing his lips against yours, providing CPR.

Please, not like this. wake up, wake up for me, [Name].

Suddenly a choked noise erupts from your lips as you turn to your side and spew out bits of water. Your throat becomes sore as you cough roughly.

Sarah immediately breaks into a smile, a gasp of relief coming from her and Rafe pulls back, a sigh coming from him. “H-Hey, take it easy, you’re alright..”

You look around, feeling dizzy and nauseous as you spit up the last of the water you nearly drowned in, as Sarah pulls you to her chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “[Name], i’m so glad you’re okay!”

Meanwhile, Rafe stands upright, looking up at the sky, trying to relax his rapidly beating heart, as he takes slow steps to turn around.

“H-Hey, look, I didn’t know-“

Kelce, already knowing what was coming, raises his hands in defense as he backs up.

However, Rafe doesn’t hesitate his fist swinging into Kelce’s cheek, succeeding in knocking him down. “You son of a bitch!”

Rafe clenches his jaw tight as he looks to the other kooks. “Party is fucking over, get the fuck away!”

Topper tries to talk some sense into Rafe but Rafe shoves him. “You hear me? I said get away! go fucking home, now!”

Everyone is stunned into silence as they share looks, before quickly scrambling away and off the dock, not wanting to argue with the Kook King.

Sarah sniffles as she pulls away and looks up at Rafe, who kneels down and tucks an arm under your legs and the other under your back, before lifting you up carefully, bridal style.

“R-Rafe?…” Your hoarse voice calls out, hands pressed to his firm chest but Rafe hushes you. “Shh.. it’s alright, just get some rest.. you’ll be fine.”

Sarah watches her brother carry you towards his truck, wiping her tears as she follows after them, exhaling gently.

Tears brim your eyes as your chest swells with warmth, despite your freezing body.

You stare up at Rafe weakly, feeling your chest grow weak as your eyes flutter close and you press your head into his chest more. “Thank you.. Rafe.. You saved me..”

Rafe’s hold on you tightens, securing you in his arms.

“..I’m so glad you’re okay… i’m so sorry..”

a/n: welp, this could’ve been sooo much better but i rushed this at work hehe. outerbanks is playing on the tv at work so i thought id get a little smth out :3 this is sooo bad though 😭

not proofread or edited. i’ll go back and edit some other time.

synvil™️.

[amazingmsme]

Last night I had an idea for an epic AU that is either really cool or really stupid.

So basically, the gods can be killed. But only with one specific weapon or tool that is special or sacred to them. For example, the Spear of Athena, or Demeter's labrys (a double headed axe for woodcutting). If they are wounded with that weapon, they might as well be mortal. Anything else, they can heal from. But this? Nah.

Which brings me to the next part. So remember how Poseidon is turned into Swiss cheese in 600 Strike? Well, Poseidons weapon, the one that can fatally harm him, is nothing other than his trident. You know, the very trident that Ody used to make him more see-through than cheap toilet paper.

So, I imagine that 600 Strike goes as normal, but Poseidon lives long enough to gasp out the word "please" like he does in the song, and then he just dies. Odysseus is confused as hell. He kinda pokes him with the trident, like "why is he just lying there?" Only to look on, horrified, as the god's body turns into a puddle of seawater and merges with the rest of the ocean.

(Now the fun part) After around 3 seconds Odysseus feels a white hot pain all over his body, before promptly blacking out.

When he comes to, the storm has faded away, and the sea is as calm as a sleeping toddler. He sighs and gets up from the rocks he was laying on, only to realize that everything felt off. Now is he going crazy, or is everything more defined and colorful? And his hearing sounds like it got better as well. And the ground seemed farther away than normal. Had some god blessed him? Was this Poseidon's way of conceding their battle? No, that can't be right. The trident is still lying there. Odysseus reaches to pick it up, and freezes in shock.

His fingers have membranes in between them.

It's only then that he takes a good look at himself. There are patches of scales all over his arms, legs, and torso. He now has fins on his arms and legs, and ears as well. His nails have gone from blunt to long and sharp. Pulling a lock of hair in front of him shows that it's longer than it used to be, with streaks of blue and teal. Catching his reflection in the water shows him that his eyes have changed from brown to a striking aquamarine, and the whites have turned black and, are those fangs?

Something is terribly wrong here. While he is sifting through all of the possible causes in his head, he hears a voice to his right. It's a merman. Why is he calling Odysseus "My lord?" What is going on?

On Olympus, the gods are shocked that one of their own had been killed. Then, as the implications begin to dawn on them, they feel something that a god never feels. Fear. One of the strongest Olympians was killed by a mortal. Could this happen to the rest of them as well.

Back on that rocky patch, Odysseus came to a sudden, chilling realization. He looked at the water around him, and tried to will it to do something, anything. To his surprise, the water began to churn, before turning into violent waves, as the skies darkened again, reflecting the storm in Odysseus's mind.

Ody is no longer Odysseus, King of Ithaca. He is no longer the monster that Poseidon had turned him into. He is now Odysseus, God of the Seas.

It's a little rusty, but I thought it sounded like a cool idea. What do you think? Also sorry for the ramble.

- 🧁 anon

MDJSMSBDD LITERALLY LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS OMGGGGG! I LOVE the idea of a god’s weapon being the thing that can kill them! & it adds so much weight to everything Odysseus already did to add killing a god onto that list is bound to have some kind of effect on him!

This is such a cool, interesting concept & I’m eating it up! Love the description of god!ody

[anticidic]

Can I ask from this ask game for Soukoku (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁

https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share

hi anon!! this looked fun, so I decided to do it 😊

1. Which one is the better cook

Chuuya. Dazai wouldn't know good eats even if it hit him upside the head. Dazai would try to cook, but he set off the smoke alarm not just once, but twice, and the last time he burnt their food beyond edible. I think Dazai would still try to hone his skills when Chuuya wasn't around.

2. What their love letters look like

Lowkey, I think Dazai would send a fake letter and then a really passionate letter full of him waxing poetic. The man gets caught up in his head too much and for too long, and it'd show in his writing where he fails to voice how he feels. You feel like you're reading someone's diary. The fake letter is to irritate Chuuya and pretend like he doesn't care about sappy love letters.

Chuuya, I think would be more straightforward and just say like, he went to the park and crossed over a bridge and it reminded him of the time they were there at night together looking up at the stars.

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

I feel like Dazai would outlive Chuuya? It doesn't even have to be tragic, but taking elements from his canon self, I feel like after finding the one and settling down, he'd dread dying and his inner resolve would keep him alive.

He'd look like he was coping extremely well, or look completely unfazed by Chuuya's passing—the jokes go on, he continues annoying those around him. But then he goes home, it's just him and the four walls and a bed too big for just him, and it's cold. He talks to himself into the late hours nursing multiple glasses of alcohol and it goes on like that until dawn. He's avoidant of anything that reminds him of Chuuya at first because he stuffs every damn emotion down instead of letting them out, and he can feel that tiny crack going down the length of his face and splitting him open day-by-day.

Then, he's getting ready for another day and he goes into their closet that's now become entirely his, and he reaches for gloves because it's below freezing, and he accidentally grabs Chuuya's. The tears come because it's the final straw. And they don't stop.

But also taking parts of canon into consideration, I feel like Chuuya would have a shorter lifespan because of eventual corruption side effects catching up to him as he got older.

4. What they do on date night

Dazai would like doing something cozy, like ordering food and a movie in, but he gets roped into nights out at luxury restaurants, or to take a walk around a temple because Chuuya insists he needs fresh air.

5. How many kids they'll have

I can see them having two 👀 Dazai's the one really wanting the second

6. How they decorated their bedroom

Dazai's very minimalistic. Maybe a framed photo or two, a little lamp on the nightstand, and books he cycles through. Probably has a mini pile of clothes by the foot of the bed because he was late to work that morning. Chuuya wouldn't be as minimalistic, but you could tell he put thought and care into the decorations and how high quality the things he has are. A shoe rack for all his shoes to neatly line up on. A standing mirror by the dresser. Framed artworks hung up on the walls. A large bed with a lot of pillows and the bedding high quality.

7. Which one is the worse driver

Dazai, no contest. Chuuya will force Dazai out of the driver's seat if he has to.

8. What they argue about

Really stupid things. Like, Dazai not restocking the toilet paper. Chuuya forgetting to put his phone on silent when it rings on the nightstand at five am. Chuuya losing his mind over the fact his pack of cigarettes is slowly going down and he doesn't remember smoking so much, but it's really Dazai stealing them.

9. Which one swears more

Chuuya swears more out loud, but Dazai either swears in his head or to himself. Dazai will be sipping coffee at the table when he suddenly hears a loud, "Fuuuuuuck!" down the hall, and he goes to see what's up. But it's just Chuuya crumpled to the floor rubbing his foot because he stubbed his toe on the door. Then Dazai walks away.

Dazai will joke that Chuuya needs to wash his mouth out with soap, but he doesn't actually care that Chuuya swears.

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

I think they'd be really into watching gritty shows or shows that have heists as a theme? The action would reel them in. But separately, I can see Dazai being into dumb reality shows because he "likes to make fun of how stupid people are" but he's really into them, and Chuuya likes cooking shows or animal documentaries.

11. What their first impression was of each other

Chuuya thought Dazai was a fucking idiot and actually couldn't stand him. (Rightfully so) And Dazai made it his mission to get under Chuuya's skin, and now whoops, look how they got here. A very push-pull relationship.

12. What they do for their anniversary

Dazai downplays it and acts cool when he casually suggests they go away to another part of Japan or they go down to Odaiba at night to walk along the pier and then dine by the water. He also got them a nice hotel room so it can just be them. Chuuya wasn't even really sure what to do, he was just gonna get a gift and take Dazai out.

13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays

I think Dazai would make a big deal about Chuuya's birthday, but not care about his own. Chuuya would dislike being reminded he's not only the older of the two of them, but he's getting older faster than he recalls the days going by like seconds. Dazai will joke about it, too, but he sprinkles in niceties like getting Chuuya a new pair of gloves.

14. What nicknames they call each other

I can't see them calling each other couple names honestly—I think they'd eventually come up with something only they understand/something stupid for one another. (I will say, Dazai thought he was hallucinating the first time Chuuya called him Osamu instead of Dazai, though.)

15. What they would change about each other

Chuuya would change Dazai's terrible habit of leaving messes everywhere, and Dazai would change how Chuuya hogs the bed and snores like a roaring machine.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hey! RSV bachelor's/bachelorette when jealous please??

Sure thing :3

I didn't know, dear anon, whether you meant jealousy romantic or any other kind, so I stayed on the romantic. Also since there are hints in the mod about the relationships of some of the candidates (Paula/Anton, Zayne/Irene, etc.), some headcanons will list the candidates' partner as Farmer and others will be neutral. Hope it's ok! Thank you for your ask! 💕

_________________________________________

RSV bachelors/ettes when they're jealous:

If Jio had the ability to sizzle anyone he didn't like or those who let themselves get too much with his lover, there would be a whole circle of ashes around Farmer of all those losers. He has his trusty katana, though... Not that the elf doubts his partner's fidelity, it's just that sometimes they don't realize they're being flirted with. And Jio sees everything. He'll be a bit possessive near Farmer.

No, Corine won't keep quiet about the jealous feelings that have arisen. If something doesn't suit her, she points it out to Farmer directly, without all these games and guesses. She's not the jealous type, but she won't stand for boundaries being violated either by Farmer's interlocutor or by Farmer themself.

Despite all the Amethyst family drama throughout Zayne's life, with jealousy, cheating, and other not-so-nice things (thanks to his parents for a "happy" childhood), the future head of the family himself, fortunately, has not adopted all of this into his worldview about relationship with his partner. He doesn't feel jealous, trusts his partner, and believes that if someone is worried about something, they should share their problems with each other, because healthy relationships are built on honesty and communication.

Faye won't act directly, but she won't miss the opportunity to make passive-aggressive comments and snort in the direction of someone who allows themself to cross the line with her partner. That's the kind of nerve it takes to pry into a taken person's life, especially when she's standing right next to them! Her jealousy, however, Faye will deny if caught off guard with the question.

Anton is afraid. Afraid that he is not good enough for his partner, as his self-esteem has been low lately, to say the least. He's gotten it into his head that he's a total loser and still doesn't understand what his partner saw in him. Won't say his fears out loud, but will start constantly questioning if his partner really loves him and if he's good enough for them.

June, when jealous, stands away from people and starts smoking more than he should, as it helps him to distract himself a little bit from his negative thoughts. This is bad for his health, and Farmer can immediately notice it, to which June will not hide his jealousy. But then he'll apologize and admit that he should have shared his worries with his partner instead of withdrawing and soaking himself in tobacco smoke.

Blair's feelings of jealousy toward Farmer manifest themselves in a huge desire to prank the person who is flirting with her partner. The fisherwoman usually only restrains herself with her mischievous thoughts, as she doesn't want Farmer to think she is jealous and controlling. But if anything, she has stink bombs and itching powder at the ready. Don't mess with her and with Farmer.

Oh, Daia want to teach the cheeky one who's messing with her Farmer a lesson, and have some fun in the process. The ninja will appear out of nowhere, and immediately start flirting with Farmer, giving them a quick kiss on the cheek, putting a hand on their shoulders or waist, saying "I missed you so much, love~ Oh, who's this, your friend? Nice to meet you~" More often than not, the "suitors" will back off. If not - she has shurikens and a katana for those stubborn ones.

When feeling jealous, Shiro will stare silently and glare, but will not share his worries aloud. He already feels like a burden to the family because of his injuries, and that includes his relationship with Farmer. Somewhere inside his head there's a voice saying he's not good enough for Farmer and what they've ever found in him, a cripple. It's not true, but until Shiro voices his thoughts, he's going to think that way all the time when someone tries to hit on Farmer.

Poor Alissa... The girl only once saw some tourist trying to flirt with Farmer (to which they said they were taken btw), and that was enough for her to feel insecure. She realizes it's a stupid and irrational thought, but still.... What if she's not enough for them? Alissa will try to be with Farmer more often for fear of losing them.

Sean is not a jealous person, and doesn't see Farmer's friends and acquaintances as a threat to his and his partner's relationship. On the contrary, new friends, that's neat! Naturally, if someone starts openly flirting or hitting on his partner, the man will remind him that Farmer is already taken. Otherwise, he trusts them and doesn't feel jealous.

As the Governor's bodyguard, Bryle has excellent situational awareness, quickly recognizing threats and people's behavior. He can see both his partner's body language and the body language of the person his partner is talking to from afar, so if someone does start to do wrong moves, all Bryle has to do is stand next to his partner. After all, by having Bryle, they also have the 'scary dog' privilege. Bryle is confident enough in himself and his partner, so not jealous.

The jealousy takes Ian by surprise, as he hasn't felt anything like it before. It was hard for him to know if that person was trying to hit on Farmer or if it was just a casual conversation and he wouldn't want to chop off his shoulder and throw accusations. But if the feeling of jealousy arose again, he'd be blunt about it.

"Maddie, you-" "No, I'm not jealous!" "...want some blueberry pie?" Oh boy, because of the betrayal and pain of her past relationship, Maddie still has insecurities about herself and suspicion of her current partner's loyalty. The lab assistant is well aware that these are irrational thoughts underwritten by low self-esteem, making her angry with herself and, most unpleasantly, likely to snap at her own partner. Maddie tries, but she can easily become jealous towards Farmer.

If Philip feels jealousy, he won't say it to Farmer directly. But he would tell his close friends over a mug of something strong, trying to figure out whether hie is overreacting or it was justified. On the other hand, though, Philip realized that discussing the problem with anyone but Farmer was a foolish and unjustifiable decision. He would try to make amends.

Paula is lost, not knowing what to do with her feelings of jealousy. On the one hand, she wants to share her concern and talk about the time when the doctor thought that the situation was out of line. On the other hand - she's afraid that her insecurities and remarks will only make the situation worse. It's going to take her a little while to get her act together, but she does spill everything to her partner, hoping that communication will solve the problem.

Kenneth isn't too pleased when one of Farmer's friends is clearly trying to be something more than a friend (even though he and Farmer are officially a couple!), but the electrician trusts his partner to work things out for themself and draw the boundaries. Not to say he's trying to eavesdrop on the conversation anyway, he's just curious. Only asks who it was and what they wanted with Farmer. A sliver of jealousy, but nothing serious for accusations.

"Already taken, if you don't know." Maybe a bit blunt and harsh on Kiarra's part, but the girl didn't want to be left with ambiguities and misunderstandings. Farmer's friend, who had been a little too touchy-feely for a friend lately, might take offense at Kiarra's words, but the graphic designer would ask how Farmer's friend would feel if she was trying to flirt with their partner like that. Nothing personal, but respect boundaries.

Does Flor realize that jealousy is a desire for the undivided control of all the time and all the strength, mental and bodily, of another person, which is not healthy for her relationship with Farmer? Of course. Will she begin to address this issue with Farmer? Well... yes, but not right away until she's prepared to voice her thoughts. The red-haired girl is afraid to express herself in such a way that Farmer will not only not understand her, but will take her words to heart, so she wants to be careful. Maybe there isn't really a problem here?

Wait, someone wants to take Farmer away from Ysabelle? No on her watch! It might have been a simple misunderstanding, but the jealous feeling in the girl already surged like fire, and it made her do something about it. She would be by Farmer's side, holding their hand (they are a couple), kissing them and complimenting them (they are a couple, after all) and gently hugging them (they are. a couple. got it?). Wha- Of course not, she's not jealous!

Jeric isn't jealous type, and he knows from himself when just someone shows a mastery of eloquence without any hint of taking his partner. But he's also a virtuoso at speaking and complimenting, so he really doesn't mind battling someone in conversation. Of course he'll win, since he's charming and Farmer thinks so, right dear?~ Though a little later he'll apologize to Farmer if it was a little awkward. Jeric believes them, he just wanted to have a little fun.

[cozylittleartblog]

Hello! 🦠 anon here again... I'm not sure if my ask wast sent so im gonna ask again,

What are your headcanons on swatch? Can you tell more of your concept of them? Like how do you view him? I would really appreciate it even it's like small fun facts! thanks a lot :)

you're fine i didn't have art to post so i didn't log in for a few days. uhhhhhh SwatchThoughts(tm):

they're the head butler ofc, but they're also queen's right-hand-man (gender neutral), her #1 bestie. they know everything about her, even about lancer before the events of ch2. they will literally do anything she asks and anything that will entertain her. it's tiring and they do complain sometimes but they enjoy their work, they know what a kind person she really is and that she's generally a good ruler, so they like to make her happy :)

weirdly competitive. nobody beats them in queen's monthly fruit-smashing competition and if you somehow do, they're a good sport but You Will Not Win Next Month. You Won't.

workaholic. oh god they wear so many hats in the mansion and they're so tired all the time, it's a miracle they get everything done

the color cafe is a regular butler cafe up front and a host club in the back. a handful of the birds, including swatch, can be paid (at quite high rates, swatch especially) to join you for drinks or sweets, flirt with you, cuddle - p much have a sweet and lightly romantic time. you would not believe how much money spamton dumped into the host club back in the day. their undisputed #1 customer even 20 years later

i generally view them as very asexual (demi specifically. + nonbinary) but they still love their host work! it's fun, they like making people happy and playing at being a romantic. and the sweets. they like the sweets just as much 🍰

damn good chef and an even better baker

very polite but short tempered 😔 they're quick to rough up people who don't follow the rules or who just personally annoy them/cause chaos, and they always win

they are the tallest swatchling, at 9 feet tall. Beast. good for carrying queen on their broad shoulders though!

their feathers, which are all slightly curly, have a slight iridescence to them that tint, along with accents on their outfit, in accordance to their mood or the paint they've been drinking . the default is pink

dressed to the nines 24/7. even on their time off.

they adore their birds. they spawned each and every single one of them (the ones in their own flock that work for queen, anyway), they know all their names even when everyone's the same color and they remember what's going on in their lives. which is impressive when there's at least a couple hundred of them ;;;

their favorite flavor of paint is dusty lilac

their favorite normal flavor is strawberry

as an art program they not only create things for lightners but also for queen ! they design a lot of things for her with her input, and with as quickly as they can draw things directly into the dark world they're always working on things for her, while dressing up their cafe for themed events in-between.

the underside of their tail is a swatchbook

they love being pet please pet them please please please p

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[triglycercule]

How do you think the fandom somehow turned Horror into a really nice sweet guy who can practically do no wrong when his original counterpart is just such a fucking dickhead

ERUAGH this topic always intrigues me as a proud asshole horror truther BUT ALSO i love fanon horror too 💔💔 because for me i was "there" for the og years of horror's character getting turned into this total baby but i wasnt THERE THERE (aka here on tumblr because i didn't even know what tumblr was back in like 2016-17 💀)

so for me i can only guess. imo i think it was just a combination of flanderization & lack of canon knowledge PLUS the fact that the only info that was first known about horror himself was just from the flashgame (since all of chapter 1 of horrortale is about toriel and the ruins so by then horror's already got an established stereotype and image and people just dont read the comic enough to actually correct this). its just a bunch of layers of mischaracterization that quickly piled up and its packed TIGHTLY now in this current age

horror in the flash game is presented REALLY simply,,,, he's just this guy that taps on wood with a cleaver that kills you if you get too nosy or dont listen to papyrus and makes jokes about food. we dont know if he doesn't eat food at all yet since the panel establishing that horror hasnt eaten food in 7 years comes out in 2018 in pg44 💀 (and technically the hint that he hasn't eaten humans at all came out in pg33 but again making comic pages takes awhile and i know that horrortale's had its fair share of hiatuses thru the years,,,,) so this lack of knowledge about his hunger can ALREADY lead to the "foodie" trope that he has since he makes jokes about head dogs n stuff

the protective part can also be assumed by how he's always making sure that aliza plays along with papyrus's games and when we get later into chapter 2 and learn about snowdin that he also provides for everyone there by feeding them with humans. i always see people bringing up these arguments of how "OH WELL horror feeds everyone in horrortale and protects them from undyne so he'd do the same for others too!!!" well yeah sure but like,,,, he also feels incredibly guilty about the position that he's put them in and feels obligated to do that just because,,, MAYBE he'd provide for others like how he does in snowdin but REALLY? youre using the bare minimum of him providing BASIC FOOD AND PROTECTION as a way of justifying his protective tendencies??? i feel like that could work better (in a bad sanses context. because you always see this bullshit in nightmare's gang,,,,, (nightmare is a catalyst for bad characterization WHEN I CATCH YOU WHEN I CATCH YOU)) if his provider tendencies were given a more unique approach than just feeding them and stuff. horror wouldn't have the same attachment he had to snowdin with any of the gang so he wouldn't treat them the same or even similarly!!! AT ALL!!!!! oops i got sidetracked BUT ANYWAYS

and then for the big bear giant thing where people make him 3x the size he normally is (WHICH IS PEAK KEEP DOING IT,,,,,, epaugh small dust big horror would be the second only thing to put me to death if i was 95 and on my deathbed. right after any mtt fanart poly or not) i feel like just came from the simple idea of Big=Scary because idk megalophobia or smth. like people saw him and maybe horror was too much of a kicked puppy to be scary in their eyes so people were like lets size him up!! i do remember seeing a post where the reason why people hced horror was big was bc all his limited magic was put into sustaining his body and thats why his bones are thick but that just like,,,,, doesn't make sense to me. like even animals here on EARTH with normal diets have limited growth capacity simply because a larger body means more sustenance for it so why would he be bigger if that would just make him hungrier??? nevertheless I STILL LOVE DISPROPORTIONATELY BIG HORROR but unfortunately it does contribute to fanon horror 💔💔💔

this fandom is notorious for not reading canon info too sooo,,,, LIKE I SAID it was a mix of lack of canon info + horrortale being underdeveloped + flanderization of his basic traits which were then amplified when people came up with hcs for this flanderized version of horror and not his canon one. i mean you gotta be honest that fanon versions of characters will almost ALWAYS be easier to make fun jokes and art and writing of just bc of the fact that they are simpler!! almost all of the utmv au characters have this trait where their fanon version is a really really REALLY simplified/flanderized version of themselves which like,,,, you go you! just make sure to read horrortale pls :3 its peak fiction pls :3 the comic is so fire :3 the gore isnt really that graphic (in my opinion) you might be able to stomach it :3

[thefanciestborrower]

Are you okay with other belly kinks such as stuffing, or liquid bloating

Hmm, good question! I actually haven’t thought a lot about other things tbh since for me, vore is less of a ‘belly kink’ thing and more of just a writing trope that’s fun to experiment with, but honestly? I think a little bit of stuffing can be cute if done right. I’m not a fan of like, massive weight gain or inflation or anything, but a character indulging a bit too much in food or drink can be kind silly if done right. Idk I’d say I’m on the fence about it so like. Maybe don’t go overboard with the asks concerning other stuff lol, but yeah I guess I do like some mild stuffing sometimes. It’s silly

[altruistic-meme]

i love to hear your writing process thoughts and i’m genius so excited to read your fics when they’re ready!!!

dsgljsg hi!! i am so glad to hear that tbh it makes me so so happy that you actually enjoy my endless screaming into the void--

im also very excited to share them :D especially the longer ones though those will obviously take more time to actually write/post lmao but in the meantime i definitely have a few shorter fics to work on and practice with!!

in the meantime, here are some spoils from the latest bout of writing and losing my mind <3<3

[tohandatla]

Do you have any headcanons about Darius and his mentor, or Darius and old hexsquad?

oh HI I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually ask me!! hello!! Yes I have so many! Where to start...

Alright, so, full disclosure: I don’t actually think the Hexsquad were ever friends. Or, at least, I don’t think they were particularly close, since the window where they could have been friends is really really short - about 7 months between when Raine arrives and when Eda gets cursed. HOWEVER I have a thousand and one headcanons about how the old Hexsquad could have worked so I’ll be pulling on those!

Darius was (and is) an incredibly kind, loving, and generous person. He is also a giant fucking asshole who loves to complain and is physically incapable of telling his friends (who he would die for) that he does, in fact, like them. So instead, he’s the type who always just so happens to bring Eda’s favorite food on Fridays, when she doesn’t grab cafeteria food because she doesn't like spaghetti with eyeballs, SIGH, I guess you can have some of mine, I brought extra anyway. The type who (lovingly) bullies the shit out of his friends but will threaten anyone else who does the same. The loser who INSISTS that he doesn’t care about his friends’ wellbeing as if he doesn’t regularly drop everything to make sure they’re okay when they seem upset or sick. Like he isn’t almost always the first one to notice when something is Wrong. Like he isn’t the most ride-or-die loser in Hexside next to Eda. Like he doesn’t carefully monitor himself so he doesn’t actually hurt one of his friends’ feelings when he’s bullying them.

‘Course, he isn’t always an asshole. Most of the time, he’s pretty chill, with a tendency to be annoying on purpose and kind of rude (in a fun way). The tsundere-ness, for lack of a better word, mostly just comes out when he’s going out of his way to be kind. Because emotional vulnerability is for nerds.

(Thanks so much for asking! Sorry if it’s not what you were looking for 😅)

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Hey so you've posted a bit about replaying DA and I wanted to know if you have a canon run through

I do! I'm currently replaying through my canon run right now [with a few deviations here and there] because every time I finish a run, some time passes before I'm like, ".........I miss them." It makes doing an alternate run harder, too.

For DAO, I play as a rogue lady Tabris named Rosalie, or Rose. Dual-wielding ranger and dualist. Her most used party dynamic is Alistair/Morrigan/Zevran. She named the mabari Griffon after the tales of Grey Wardens and their griffons. Rose romanced Alistair, kept him a warden and made Anora queen. She considers Morrigan one of her closest friends until Morrigan reveals her true intentions for coming with them. I've written about that whole thing before. Honestly, as far as companions go, Rose becomes close friends with most of them... except Wynne, they tend to butt heads in a lot of ways.

Rose didn't want to become a warden and thinks most of their rules and secrets are bullshit. Duncan's excuse for not coming to help her and the other elven women Vaughan took is a driving force for her to defy that "we can't get involved" rule as much as she can during and post-blight. She sided with the mages in Kinloch and with their help saved Connor, made Bhelen king of Orzammar, and settled things between the Dalish and the werewolves peacefully by convincing Zathrian to end the curse. She executed Loghain at the Landsmeet since, y'know... he sold city elves, nearly including her father, to Tevinter slavers to fund his war so... in her eyes, he doesn't get to live after that.

This playthrough I did make a save to reject Morrigan's dark ritual to see what happens when the warden makes the ultimate sacrifice and it's the most unsatisfying ending. It's such a, "No no noooo we didn't deserve this! After everything we went through! Just for it to end like that??" hopeless feeling... which was then fixed when I went back and made my canon choice of begrudgingly accepting the deal [even though it mostly goes against Rose's character but I'm weak and selfish and want her and Alistair to live].

In DA2, I play as a male mage Hawke named Edgar, or Ed. Force mage and blood mage. His most used party dynamic is Carver/Merrill/Anders until Carver goes to the Grey Wardens, then it's Isabela/Merrill/Anders. He's mostly purple in personality, but occasionally dips into blue, and I can count the number of times he's gone red on one hand. He named his mabari Fleabag after Malcolm bought the pup from a traveling merchant who failed to mention he was flea ridden. Several baths later, the mabari was finally flea free but Ed decided he should never live it down and named him Fleabag.

Ed maxes out the friendships with everyone [yes, including Carver, Ed tries so damn hard with him] except Aveline, he maxes out her rivalry. They all side with him and the mages in the end. He romanced Anders. I once did a run where I romanced Fenris with Ed and even though I liked it, the whole playthrough felt wrong because romancing Anders is, like... a fundamental part of Ed's story now... Even though they break up in the end.

I've done all three options across different playthroughs when it comes to Anders; I've spared him, I've killed him, and I've told him to leave. My canon choice is to tell him to leave, and then let him join my party later after we've sided with the mages. It's hard to explain without writing a full essay, but Ed and Anders are pretty much life partners at this point. Even if it's no longer romantic because a huge amount of trust was broken, even if they never get back together in that regard, even if Anders will now be on the run for the rest of his life, whether or not Ed agrees with him [he does and he doesn't, it's complicated] like... Ed loves him and he'll always love him, y'know? He won't abandon him even when everyone tells him he should.....but then DAI happened uhhh

Finally for DAI, I play a lady mage Lavellan named Ashalle, or Ashlaen, or just Ash. She's a knight-enchanter who mostly does storm magic. I'd say DAI is the game where I have a pretty even party use that I rotate between; Cassandra/Varric/Vivienne, Solas/Sera/Blackwall, The Iron Bull/Dorian/Cole. She sides with the mages in Redcliffe and left Hawke in the fade [sorry Ed, and sorry Anders... and sorry Carver... and Varric]. When it came to picking a ruler for Orlais, she figured all options sucked but went with Celene and Briala. Ash drank from the well, and then disbanded the inquisition in Trespasser.

I dislike how DAI just kinda plops your inquisitor into existence with only a small paragraph explaining why they were at the conclave; I wish it had a DAO approach so that's what I did for my inquisitor. Before I start the DAI playthrough, I boot up DAO. Before she was Ashalle Lavellan, she was a circle mage named Ashlaen Surana who escaped with Jowan after he lied to her about being a blood mage. In the ten years pre-DAI, she lost Jowan. In her grief, joined the Dalish, changed her name, and eventually ended up at the conclave. It just adds a lot more meat and spice to the choices and interactions with companions and advisors since she keeps that part of her backstory a secret. After all, she helped a blood mage and then was accused of being one herself before fleeing; she doesn't want the inquisition to know that. All of her crafted staves are named after Jowan while her crafted robes are usually named after her conflicting identities and pieces of her past, too..... Oh, speaking of past, she romanced Cullen. Because of course.

With the context of all this, it becomes them reuniting after they may or may not have had a thing going on in the circle, but then she escaped and he believed she was actually a blood mage for ten years. Cullen sees her like "Ah. Yes. You. Whom I haven't met. Hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people to get you here. Glad you survived." when internally he's screaming "I know who you are, those tattoos fool me not! Why are you here?? To torment ME specifically??" Then there's Ash who takes a little longer to recognize him, and when she does, it solidifies that she needs to run after this because he knows who she is and why she fled, that's not good, she's not going back to the circle after all this is done.

But y'know... they work it out. Eventually.

That's my canon run through of all three games. I keep trying to talk myself into doing a full alternate canon run, but the only game I've successfully done a different route in is DAI with my male rogue Tristan Trevelyan whose backstory was that he's a pro-mage ex-templar. That was fun to see how different things play out, but I haven't managed it for the other two.

I'd like to play DAO as a more cutthroat warden who, unlike Rose, won't go out of their way to do kind things; they'll do what they deem necessary. I'd like to do a lady warrior Hawke run with Bethany as the surviving sibling, and I've tried before but every time I hit a point where I'm like ".....I miss Carver so much" and abandon the run. Like there's always something that makes me abandon the run. I almost abandoned Tristan's run, too, but somehow I pushed through and got invested. I dunno. One day I'll put on my big girl pants and just do it.

[monstersflashlight]

Thinking about your take on (any) monster eating an aphrodisiac candy on accident or like an accidental aphrodisiac pollen ingestion (from like just sniffing around scavenging/hunting) - if that makes sense? Just imagine them losing a bit of control, being so needy, and only wanting “it” to go away yet it feels too good to not be inside the reader… yea I’m totally normal about this.

I can’t wait to see what you come up with this and take your the time, make sure you are well rested and taking care of yourself! 💙

Hi anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm trying to be kinder to myself and it's always nice to have a reminder. That said, I hope you like his little story I came up with. I went overboard with this. I don’t know where this came from but dang if it wasn’t fun. Hope you enjoy! <3

Wrong candy, right hole

Werewolf x fem!witch || dub-con, accidental drug ingestion, size kink, oral sex, knotting, breeding, squirting, lowkey somnophilia || tw: there’s mentions of anxiety and a panic attack

“I’m so fucking hungry, are you done?” He pushed his face against the side of your head, almost bent in half to do so, looking over your shoulder. When he pressed against your space so closely, you felt so tiny. Fucking werewolves being as big as a refrigerator.

“Wait a lil bit, dude. I need to finish this so I can send it today.” You told him, pushing his snot away from you. You were trying to pack the last products of the day before going for dinner. You told him that at least three times already, but he was so damn impatient. You kinda loved him for it, he was always so eager for everything you did together, it was charming in a way.

“But I’m hungry…” He whined, making you bite your lip to hide a smile. Your best friend was so cute when he was acting all puppy like. You though werewolves would be more dominant or something, but he was just a big furry himbo. And you had a bit of a crush on him, but you weren’t going to sexualize him that way. You knew part of the reason you had a crush was because of how big and imposing he was, how furry his body was… You had a bit of a monster kink, and well, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you didn’t say anything about it.

You pointed at the counter and told him: “Eat some candy, they are over the counter.” He let out a happy sound as he marched to get them. You turned around in time to see him eating some of your last shipping products. Oh fuck.

“Uh, oh,” you mustered. This was bad, really bad.

“What?” He asked, opening his mouth wide, candy crumbs falling off. Gross.

You look at him with what you hoped was a sorry face. “You shouldn’t have taken that.” He didn’t eat the candies you were pointing to, he ate the ones your client specially asked for.

His face fell instantly, the worry in your tone not as hidden as you thought. “What? Why not?” You could see the gears in his brain turning, thinking about all the bad possibilities.

“It’s not candy,” you mustered, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but calculating how much time you had before it started to make an effect on him. Fuck, you didn’t know if it was going to be enough, it should be fast. Fuck.

“What?! You said I could take one.” He yelled at you, his voice growly and sexy, you tried not to think about that last part. Your lady parts would have to wait.

“The other ones, damn it. Now I have to make a new batch.” You tried not to sound annoyed about it, but those took so much effort to make… Damn it.

He looked at you like you were dumb and asked: “What were those, then?”

“Aphrodisiac candies,” you confessed slowly. The clock was ticking and you didn’t know how he would react, you normally provided them for other species, never for wolves.

“What?! WHY DID YOU HAVE THEM THERE?” He asked, starting to panic. You tried to calm him down by touching his chest, making him match your breathing. He complied, but with great effort. The clock was still ticking.

“It was an order. I was gonna pack them! But you ate them.” You kept breathing slowly, his big furry paw now on your chest, trying to breathe together. You learned about that when he had a panic attack the second time you two meet, and it had been helpful so many other times.

“What do I do? Give me the antidote,” he asked. You looked up at him with what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I- There’s none.” You tried to stop him from getting away, but he pushed you lightly and stepped back, his paws going through his head, frustration and anxiety very present on his features.

“What?!” He exclaimed. “I need to go. I need to get home, get my fleshlight. I don’t know. What do I do?” He sounded more panicked by the minute. You felt very sorry for him and even worse because it was technically your fault.

And then a light bulb turned on your head. “Or I could… I could help you,” you told him, looking to the ground, suddenly shy. You just offered your best friend to have sex with him to ride out the aphrodisiac he accidentally ate. Your brain wasn’t in the best place, but you couldn’t avoid the wetness between your thighs thinking about fucking him.

He turned to face you completely, his eyes so big it looked comical. “What?”

“Just… Just if you want to,” you muttered. Each second that passed it seemed like a bad idea. He was your best friend, he didn’t see you like that.

And then he deadpanned: “Are you saying you want me to knot you?” You blushed from your toes to your hair, hearing him talk about knotting made your pussy twitch and juices flow, you could feel the wetness on your panties growing uncomfortable.

“Dude when you say it like that.” You looked at him intently expecting him to say something else, but when he didn’t, you answered truthfully: “Yes, okay. Yes! I want you to knot me.”

“Am I taking advantage of you if we do this?” He asked, his tone worried. That made you confirm your choices. Of course you would do that for him, he was your best friend and the best werewolf you knew. He was better than any man, human, warlock or any other species you knew. He was just… him.

“No, I want this. I… I might have a bit of a monster kink…” You blushed again, and he smiled at you smugly. “Am I taking advantage of you?” You asked, matching his worried tone.

“No. I… I’ve had a crush on you since forever.” You looked at him perplexed, completely shook, what the fuck? “Your fucking candy also has some truth serum or what?” He asked and you remembered that yes, it did, fuck.

“Maybe… It’s to make the communication between partners better,” you explained. It sounded bad to your own ears, like a silly excuse for what was just happening, but you didn’t care. He had a crush on you. On you!

“Good lord, I’m never eating anything you give me ever again.” You chuckled at that, and he followed. But it was short lived. His laugh broke with a whine: “Fuck, it hurts.” He was palming his cock through the fabric of his pants and you could feel saliva pooling at your mouth. Dang you wanted to suck him off badly.

“Shit. Yeah, it should be starting to make effect.” He looked back at you with full on puppy eyes, making your heart constrict and your pussy get wetter. You pushed him backwards, and he let you guide him to the back room. You had a mattress there for when your long potions had to be made, so you could take a nap. You thanked the Goddess and pushed him on it. “Does this work?” You asked, sitting on his lap, you could see the outline of his dick and you wanted to explore every inch of him. He nodded eagerly, his paws grabbing your hips to grind your covered pussy against his dick. He whined and let out a long groan, a wet patch forming in his pants. “Did you just come?” The smile on your face was so big it hurt your cheeks.

He looked at you embarrassed. “Yes, fuck. What did you give me?” His hands kept moving your hips to grind against his dick and you were starting to lose your mind. The friction was so good you were close yourself.

You groaned and told him: “You ate it yourself. It’s… It’s supposed to make your sex experiences extremely pleasurable. And maybe… Maybe improve your stamina?” It wasn’t a question, it did improve stamina greatly, that’s why you never gave it to wolves or other species with already good stamina, their partners couldn’t hold that much time.

“I’m a werewolf, I already had enough stamina!” His words agreed with your inner turmoil. Fuck, his clothed dick against your wet panties felt wonderful. “Take off your clothes or I’ll rip them.” His low growl made you groan and more juices pooled on your panties. “Fuck, I can smell you. I can smell how wet you are.” You got up from his lap and started to get your clothes off. You were being too slow because he growled and tried to grab you. You stepped back and took care of the rest rapidly.

The second your clothes were off you, he was launching himself at you, his face going directly for your pussy. You felt his long tongue inside of you, so long and so inhuman that it was hitting every single place inside of you that made your toes curl. You kept cursing as your hands found his fur, you pulled and groaned as he ate you out like a desperate animal. You could see his hips grinding against the bed, he was probably making a mess. In your foggy brain, the pleasure hit a max level and you exploded, coming against his face as he licked every single inch of you.

He pulled back, his face contorted in what you only could describe as feral grin. He ripped off his own clothes, the sound of tearing fabric excited you. And then you saw his dick, and you twitched. He was so fucking big, his tip was red and big, leaking so much it looked shiny. But what scared you the most was the knot at the base, so big it was almost like your whole fist. Dang. You weren’t sure that was going to fit inside of you.

“I’m not sure that’s….” You tried to push away on the bed, but he grabbed your legs and pulled, positioning yourself perfectly for him. Your pussy on display and your legs over his shoulders.

“It will fit. I’ll make it fit.” His voice had an edge of danger and you shivered.

Your pussy was sensitive after the orgasm he just gave you, so when he pushed inside of you in one hard thrust you almost lost it. You arched your back and screamed at the top of your lungs. His mouth found yours, and he started kissing you, more teeth than lips. He didn’t wait, he didn’t let you warm up, he started fucking you hard and fast, your whole body moving when he pushed inside. When he bottomed out, you could feel his knot against your entrance, trying to slip inside, an insistent pressure driving you wild. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up, the perfect angle to hit your G-spot with every thrust. You were seeing stars as he grunted and growled against your open mouth. You weren’t kissing anymore, he was just licking the inside of your open mouth as you lost your body to pleasure.

He came inside you. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe even four, you stopped feeling it when it started to be too much. You could feel his cum moving inside of you with each thrust. But he kept fucking you, using you like a toy for his pleasure, and you couldn’t even blame him for being rough because you were enjoying it a lot more than you should. You did that to him, but good lord if it didn’t feel like paradise. You lost count of how many orgasms you had as he pounded you, your body at his mercy.

When you thought it was impossible to feel more pleasure, you felt him slow down, pressing and pressing, and pushing and trying to stretch you impossibly wide. You thrashed under him, there was no way, but he didn’t mind your struggling as he forced his knot inside of you. You let out a cry as it fitted inside, you felt like he was breaking you apart in the best possible way. You didn’t know it could feel like that, you didn’t know it could feel so good. Your voice gave out before your body did, your scream turned silent as he bit and licked your neck, probably leaving a line of hickeys there. You didn’t care. It felt so good. Too good.

And then he pushed on your lower abdomen, making you feel so full and so weird, but it was so hot. You had so much cum in you, a bump in your lower abdomen indicating he came so many times you were knocked up for sure. You would need to make contraceptive potions tomorrow, but for now you could enjoy the feel of his cum inside of you. So much, so hot. It felt like molten lava was melting your insides as you came and came. And he came and came.

He moved his knot against your G-spot over and over, making you want to cry because of the pleasure. And then you felt the telltale sign that you were going to squirt. It only happened a couple times before, never with somebody else, but when you tried to alert him, your arms and legs wouldn’t respond. You could just lay there in silence as he took his pleasure on you, off you. You squirted, soaking his fur and making him stop for a second, surprised. His answering growl was so feral you felt it in your whole body. He came again. And again. And again.

At some point you passed out. Your body gave out. But you guessed he kept fucking you, the candy was supposed to last for hours. Well… You trusted him, he could fuck your asleep body as much as he wanted.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Talk About A Celebration | Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: Fans are endeared by your relationship with Franco. Although, it doesn’t take long to discover that his announcement to F1 had more exciting results for the long-term couple

Warnings: Fluff. Pregnancy. Suggesitve comments. Had to adjust the timeline slightly to make this work 

Requested: Yes by anon

F1 Masterlist

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AUG 2024

williamsracing just posted

liked by francolapinto, f1 and others

williamsracing franco colapinto to race for the reminder of the 2024 season, alongside alex albon

20,234 comments

its_yn if anyone can hear screaming, yes, that is me

user1 i cannot wait for everyone to finally understand how great yn is 

→ user2 i can. i fear we need to gatekeep franco and yn

francolapinto thank you so much for this opportunity 

→ its_yn don’t pretend to be calm. you’re going to meet THE lewis hamilton. i know you’re freaking out inside

→ user3 who is this and why is she all over the post 

→ user4 oh dear. we have to deal with the f1 girlies not knowing who yn is 

alex_albon welcome to the team! 

user5 where have williams been hiding him?! 

user6 oh, well hello there

officialmpmotorsport they’re your problem now

→ user7 what does this mean?

→ its_yn rude 

user8 i was upset when i heard logan was being replaced but i think i might be able to forgive this

lilymhe @/its_yn i cannot wait to have another williams girl to gossip with 

→ its_yn i can’t wait to have a conversation with someone that isn’t about tyres

→ francolapinto you said you loved my tyre talk :(

user9 quick update for those who don’t follow f2. yn is franco’s girlfriend. has been since they were 15. no, she’s not a gold digger. no, she’s not with him because he’s an f1 driver. and the biggest no, he will not date you because he is down bad for his girl

its_yn just posted

liked by alex_albon, olliebearman and others

its_yn my baby is finally an f1 driver! i’m so proud of you, franco. this is everything you’ve dreamed of 🩵

9,789 comments

francolapinto i love you so much cariño

francolapinto i can’t wait to celebrate with you later ;) 

→ williamsracing we’re going to have to media train you, aren’t we?

→ user10 no! don’t take him away from us 

user11 not her posting the most boyfriend coded pics of him

dennis_hauger i’m just so glad it means i escape having pics of me taken whilst i nap

→ its_yn oh, hun. i will literally see you in monza

→ dennis_hauger crap

user12 i acc can’t wait to watch yn terrorise the f1 grid like she did the f2 grid 

→ its_yn i didn’t terrorise anyone. i was making friends

olliebearman i thought i was getting rid of you! why are you following me

→ francolapinto don’t be like that. i know you missed me

→ user13 i’ve seen enough. get this man a seat for 2025

alex_albon i’m not sure i want you in the garage anymore. it sounds like you terrorise teammates

→ lilymhe i’m so excited! 

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SEP 2024

williamsracing just posted

liked by francolapinto, charles_leclerc and others

williamsracing scored his first ever points in formula 1, in only his second race. ladies and gentleman, franco colapinto

13,432 comments

user1 okay but the way he kissed yn and spun her around after he come out of parc ferme

user2 franco has been serving this weekend. both with boyfriend material and points

→ user3 yes! the way he’s had a hand on yn all weekend? we love a protective boyfriend 

its_yn what an amazing day for our williams boys! 

→ lilymhe my ears are still ringing from your screams

→ its_yn don’t act like you weren’t jumping up and down with me

→ francolapinto you were jumping?! you promised to rest

user4 i had my doubts but this little flirt has blown me away

user5 i’ve seen enough. franco colapinto for wdc 2025 liked by its_yn

alex_albon i’m still deeply hurt that you won’t come out and celebrate with us

→ francolapinto yes, but yn won’t be drinking tonight so we wouldn’t be much fun

→ its_yn oh yeah, blame me. i’m the fun sucker 

→ user6 i bet she’ll be sucking something tonight liked by francolapinto

user7 franco is so unhinged and i love him for it

user8 i can’t believe franco isn’t able to celebrate his points because his gf said so 

→ user9 actually, i don’t think she’s very well and franco is taking care of her, like a caring boyfriend does

→ user10 yeah apparently she was throwing up before the race 

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JAN 2025

its_yn just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and others

its_yn baby colapinto coming to a paddock near you in may 2025 

10,234 comments

user1 she is so iconic haha 

user2 omg she’s pregnant?! i just died 

user3 literal mother

williamsracing congratulations, you two! putting in a request for baby headphones right now

user4 every time these two post, i’m reminded of how chronically single i am

→ user5 because imagine falling in love at 15 and then being with that one person for life 

→ user6 poor girl has never had another dick

→ francolapinto and she never will! 

lilymhe this post has been up for two minutes and i’ve already bought 5 baby things

→ alex_albon she’s not joking

→ user7 alex and lily taking uncle/aunt role seriously 

user8 wait, if she’s due in may, that means she’s currently 5 months pregnant

→ user8 which means she got pregnant in august. what happened in august? colapinto’s f1 seat was announced! 

→ user9 aha it’s a celebration baby 

→ its_yn @/francolapinto i told you they’d figure it out. they put it together when kevin got pole 

user10 omg! franco is gonna be a dilf 

→ francolapinto @/its_yn pay up

→ its_yn you’re not hot enough to be a dilf

→ francolapinto that’s not what you said when i was getting you pregnant 

→ williamsracing you know, now that you’re with us for the 2025 season, we’re going to have to media train you

francolapinto just posted

liked by logansargeant, kimi.antonelli and others

francolapinto not long now 

17,436 comments

alex_albon can’t believe it’s a boy. poor yn has to deal with two of you 

→ francolapinto if it isn’t broken, no need to fix it 

officialmpmotorsport what do you mean williams get to enjoy baby colapinto and we don’t? give him back! 

user1 the kiss with the blue background? cinematic masterpiece

→ its_yn thank you. i’ve been training him since he was 15. he’s still a work in progress though

→ francolapinto oi! 

user2 yn gives off such boy mom vibes

→ its_yn that’s because i’ve been trying to talk franco out of danger for years 

williamsracing cake? you’re supposed to be staying in shape! 

→ francolapinto i’ve been doing a lot of cardio 

→ user3 yeah, we all know what that means, sir

its_yn i’m still mad at you for scooping your cake out faster than i did

→ francolapinto i’m sorry! i got too excited and i moved as soon as you said go

→ user4 oh bless him. his super fast reaction time got him into trouble

→ its_yn his lack of super fast reaction time is what got me pregnant 

→ williamsracing we saw that! media training for you too

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its_yn just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, dennis_hauger and others

its_yn matias william colapinto

10,034 comments

alex_albon oh wow. are you sure that baby is half franco? he’s too cute 

→ its_yn well, i did all the work

user5 did franco pick his middle name?

→ its_yn yes -_-

→ williamsracing we approve

→ francolapinto come on, they are the reason we have the baby

user6 milf yn! 

→ its_yn finally! 

lewishamilton congratulations mum and dad. he’s adorable

→ its_yn @/francolapinto i heard you scream from the other side of the house

→ user7 i love how he’s been on the grid for months now and become a father but still hasn’t gotten over his awe for lewis 

user8 i sense a franco colapinto maiden win coming this year with his new lucky charm

→ user9 and with it another baby haha

→ its_yn no, thank you

→ francolapinto yes, please

user10 franco about to make his own f1 grid liked by francolapinto

→ its_yn franco! stop liking all these posts about more babies! 

→ francolapinto can we practice at least? 

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requests open! (but slow)

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty

[ro-is-struggling]

Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?” 

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.